Thicker Than Mud
by Melverne
Summary: In the Wizarding World blood status is an important factor in society. A civil war was fought under the guise of blood purity. In some cases entire bloodlines came to an end. See the first chapter for full summary
1. In Memory Of

**Disclaimer: I am borrowing from the creative mind of J.K. Rowling.**

**Summary: In the Wizarding World blood status is an important factor in society. A civil war was fought under the guise of blood purity. In some cases entire bloodlines came to an end. With war orphans and nearly extinct families left in the aftermath wouldn't this have created an emphasis on preserving family? **

**Warning: This story is T for a reason. There is crude content, foul language and violence in the story. If this offends you, don't read it. **

**Thank you to my beta Zarathustra46. If you have not read Vows, you should check it out. There are now three parts to the series. They are Vows, Duty and Honour. I have them listed as a favourite on my profile page and in my community, Melverne's Picks.**

**A/N: If you have read Hogwarts School of War Wizardry (a story I posted but removed), most of it has been incorporated into this story. For more details on my ideas about the Harry Potter universe see my profile page. I am always looking for a good Harry Potter story to read. PM me if you have a suggestion to add to my community, Melverne's Picks.**

* * *

><p><strong>Thicker Than Mud<strong>

**Chapter 1: In Memory of**

**Time: Spring 1991**

**Place: The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole and Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire**

Arthur was up before the sun peeked over the horizon. He rubbed his face wiping the sleep from his bleary eyes and groaned to himself. This year had been busier than most at work. Most of the magical community was anticipating the return of their saviour, Harry Potter. The-Boy-Who-Lived had disappeared Halloween Eve after surviving a killing curse from You-Know-Who. His absence had served to stir the mystery to legendary proportions. As a society, they were enraptured by everything Harry Potter. Every paraphernalia imaginable was being offered by the vendor's in Diagon Alley. He even had a collectible trading card sold with chocolate frogs.

The solid gold cauldrons that had been endorsed by the boy seemed a bit much to Arthur; Harry had most likely never even stirred a pot let alone a cauldron. However, it was not the over zealous well wishers that had spurred Arthur's hectic schedule. Cursed items were being put back into Muggle circulation. He hadn't seen so many dark items for nearly a decade. At the current trend it was quite possible that they would need to add another person to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department. Fortunately, there had been no deaths just poor Muggles being taken advantage of. If one of the Muggles died, Arthur was sure his department would grow.

The overtime pay was a boon with their soon to be four children at Hogwarts and five the following year. Their vault would be emptied in the course of the next three years. Molly's inheritance from her brother's had been enough for her to stay at home and raise the children. Her home making skills had stretched their galleons by eating at home, knitting various articles of clothing, harvesting the garden and orchard. There were even a few goats for milk and a chicken coop for eggs. The children were taught to pitch in at an early age. As a family there were nearly self sufficient, it was the cost of tuition and supplies for school that nearly emptied their vault each fall. The dwindling hair on Arthur's head and sleepless nights argued that being the head of family and despairing land owner was not all that great. They didn't have much beyond the Weasley land but they were happy.

He could have taken the easy way out and sold their property. The land was their greatest asset and had been in the family for centuries. It was located upon an extremely powerful magical reservoir. The quintessence flowing through the land fuelled the formidable wards of such strength that many sieges of war had broke upon them. The stone fence surrounding their land kept out intruders of baleful intent. It had kept the family safe during You-Know-Who's uprising just as it had against the previous Dark Lord, Gellert Grindelwald.

A powerful Muggle-repelling charm kept the boundaries of their land hidden from the Muggle world. Their humble home had been greatly expanded by magical means creating a living space which was much larger on the inside than it appeared. The hotchpotch assembly of the home itself defied Muggle logic and the laws of gravity. The warding stones, Muggle-repelling charm and magically powered home was a testimony to the power in the Weasley land. Children raised in magically rich environments tended to be more powerful witches and wizards, which was one of the reasons that majority of the Wizengamot was comprised of old families that owned magically potent land.

Numerous offers had been made over the years to purchase the land. The exorbitant amount of galleons would have provided enough for all of them to live quite comfortably through the end of his days. Yet Arthur stubbornly held onto the land as the family continued to scrape by year after year. As a land holder and pure blood wizard Arthur was allowed to vote at the Wizengamot. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had generously offered to pay the tuition of one child each year in exchange for being the Weasley proxy. This was a benefit they were very grateful for.

By the time Arthur completed his morning ablutions, Molly had set the table for two. They shared an intimate breakfast in the early hour, relishing each other's company alone. During this time it was all about them. Problems were shelved in favour of a relaxed morning together. Molly hugged Arthur before he leaned in for their parting kiss. "Farewell and be safe, husband," Molly said as Arthur floo'd away.

Alone once again, Molly took a seat at the table waiting for the Daily Prophet to arrive. It would be an hour or two before her children roused themselves to come down for breakfast. Who could blame them? It was their summer holiday. None of them were layabouts (thank Merlin). They all preferred to be done with their chores early, so they could enjoy the rest of the day. Normally she wouldn't be up so early except for Arthur's schedule. He worked his overtime in the morning in order to be home at night with the family. Dinner was a family affair at the Weasleys. It was the one meal that had a specific time.

**o~o~O~o~o**

"Tah Gideon and Fabian," Molly slurred her salute. She tipped back her red head and gulped down the drink. It burned all the way down. Molly turned her head to the side with a wince, waiting for it to hit her stomach then shook her curly ginger head with a growl. The heavy shot glass was slammed down on the kitchen table followed by a chink and splash as she prepared for the next round. "Best brothers evah!"

Five wide eyed children watched from the door in concern. They had never seen either of their parents get so deep in their cups that they slurred their speech. It was disconcerting for them to see. Their father sat at the table in silent company raising his glass of tea in response to his wife's toasts. Nodding his head or giving short verbal affirmations to his grieving wife. He had taken to tea after the first three shots. With a house full of children one of them had to be sober in case they were needed. Molly hadn't even noticed nor would she have minded. It was the company her aching heart craved.

Molly fingered the tumbler slopping some of the fire whiskey onto the table. She stretched her arm across the table and laid her head on the cool surface. An idle hand gesture overturned the shot glass and sent it rolling onto the floor. "To 'ell with 'em. Damn G'ffindor trait. Good lads they 'ere. Best brothers evah," she repeated followed by a frame-shuddering hiccup that sounded more than a little watery.

"Alright Mollywobbles off we go. Let's get you to bed. It'll be alright in the morning, dear." Arthur said coaxing her out of her chair. He gently helped his inebriated wife to her feet.

The family of red heads scurried from the door and jumped onto the living room furniture, feigning ignorance. With the path clear, Arthur walked with a supporting arm around his wife's ample waist and one of her arms thrown over his shoulders. He glimpsed at the worried faces of his children as he half-carried Molly up the stairs. "Least you 'ad the sense to stay out'o'it, my darling man. Could'na bear'd to lose ya too." She patted his cheek tenderly as they swayed precariously on the steps.

There were times when Molly lost control of her temper, usually when one of them did something monumentally stupid that could have hurt somebody. When her fiery temper flared they all covered their behinds and ran from the woman. Molly was surprisingly swift and could beat feet with the best of them. To their horror, not one of her children could outrun her in a short race. The mischievous twins often tried. Even purposely switching themselves around didn't work. Their attempt to trick her just resulted in an ample use of the wooden spoon on both of them. Their mother was quick as a whip and fleet of foot, a terrifying combination to her children.

Arthur once commented that she was forced to hold her own with her brothers. She could even get the drop on them. The seldom mentioned uncles had been professional duellists who stopped running the circuit to become hit wizards for the ministry during the war. Their battles against the Death Eaters were legendary. As hit wizards they did not investigate crimes like Aurors, they showed up for the business end of things. When there was a fight brewing, Gideon and Fabian were called in. In the end, it took ten Death Eaters (five apiece) to get the brothers and when the smoke had cleared only one wizard had lived. The lone survivor had been severely injured and easily captured by the Aurors. He was questioned under Veritaserum. The red haired brothers had been ambushed by the ten Death Eaters and even then only one of the attackers had lived.

The fight that had claimed their lives had been costly to both sides. The brothers had a running record that topped Mad Eye Moody's at the time and they had to be stopped. Voldemort had sent some of his best combatants to make sure the Prewett brothers were eliminated and he had lost every follower that had been committed to the battle. Only the Longbottoms and Marauders were as troublesome to him.

Their mother's good humour had vanished that morning at breakfast when she opened the Daily Prophet. She had broken down and shed silent tears with the paper gripped in her hands. It had distressed the children terribly. While his siblings either fretted over Molly's sadness or tried to soothe her, Ron had simply floo'd their father to come home.

Once their parents disappeared up the steps the siblings bolted for the kitchen. Percy was the first to the table and snatched up the paper. The twins stood on either side of him leaning in to see the articles. Ginny elbowed her way to the front. "Budge over, I want to see too." She wasn't normally pushy but as the youngest and the only girl, Ginny had to sometimes fight to get her share or turn.

Ron lingered in the back, standing on the tips of his toes; he was just tall enough to peak over his older brother's shoulders. He put a hand on Percy's right shoulder and the other on one of the twin's left shoulder and pulled himself up a bit higher so he could see better. Percy shuffled the paper and read the headlines out loud. "This year is the class of 1998, which will herald the first year of Harry Potter The- Boy-Who-Lived. See page nine for back to school specials celebrating Harry Potter's eleventh birthday."

"That's not it, you twit." One of the twins spouted.

Ginny whinged, "Does it say anything else about Harry Potter?"

Ron shook his head at his sister's question. It was embarrassing to witness her obsession with a boy she'd never even met. He thought about the series of pictures Teen Witch printed of Harry Potter. It didn't matter that the only pictures they had were baby pictures. All summer they kept publishing fuzzy obscured pictures of supposed sightings of Harry Potter. There were even several pictures that had an aging charm to show what The-Boy-Who-Lived might look like at various ages.

_I might be sharing a room with the bloke this year. I hope she doesn't want a signed pair of his underpants like they talk about in her girl magazines. There is no way I'll help her with that! That's just gross. She better not ask him either! Geez, that's all he needs is to know my little sister is a rabid fan girl. I can't believe Mum would rather have her read that rubbish with Luna than let her play Quidditch with us. _

"In memory of..." Percy sat the paper down on the table and took a step back letting the littlest Weasleys slip through. There were several pages of those who had been lost during the rise of You-Know-Who. On the first page were the best known and most valiant. James and Lilly Potter were mentioned first, of course, but mid-way through the page they found their Uncles. Only Bill and Charley were old enough to remember them. Bill said that the brothers were very successful in the duelling circuit. Every year a Weasley was born the brothers opened a vault for their newest nephew and put the purse of whatever tournament they won into it. The winnings had been big enough to pay for their first year at Hogwarts. When they had died while in the line of duty everything they had earned was left to Molly. It had been enough to finish putting the two oldest through school and help pay part of Percy's tuition. Bill and Charlie had continued the tradition and sent a part of their wages home to help out the nearly destitute family.

After settling Molly in their bed, Arthur returned downstairs to find their children in the kitchen huddled around the Daily Prophet. He watched them a moment as he considered what to say. "This is a hard memory for your mother. She was very close to her brothers." _They were just as close as the lot of you are._

Silence answered the Weasley patriarch and he cleared his voice before continuing. "They were good to all of us. When I joined the Aurors they quit touring and came home. I had just finished training when Gideon and Fabian signed up. There was no need for them to do that. They were international duellers and could easily have continued their tours. Nothing was ever said but I believe they joined the ranks to keep an eye on me for Molly. During that time nobody was joining the Aurors. Understandably, it was a very hazardous occupation. It was pure coincidence that two famous duellers joined at the same time a position opened up for the Misuse of Magical Artifacts Office." Arthur's voice was thick with irony when he said this.

"Gideon said I should apply for it. Fabian said I had a family and that needed to be my priority. Against all odds when everyone was looking for a desk job to get off the streets and out of the fight, I was given a promotion straight out of training. Your Uncles became hit wizards to be called in for the hazardous fights."

"Mum couldn't have bear'd to lose you too." Ron said softly repeating what he had heard their mum say earlier.

Arthur nodded his head to Ron and gave a proud little smile knowing that he understood the enormity of their Uncles' sacrifice. The others looked from Arthur to Ron as they began to understand what was being said. As one they crowded around their Dad and hugged him. They were grateful to have him in their lives and not as one of the many who were honourably mentioned in memory of.

**o~o~O~o~o**

The shaggy haired gangly youth walked the hall peering at the line of family pictures mounted on the wall. He stopped to watch his Uncles whom were currently striking an intimidating pose. The two red haired men were leaning back to back with their arms crossed. Each of them held a wand that was ready to be used. A glint of daring shined in their eyes as they watched the young boy gaze at their picture. The ginger haired lad raised a hand to touch the plaques beneath their picture. Fabian and Gideon leapt apart and levelled their wands at Ron. A shower of brightly coloured sparks sprang forth from their wands and they smiled at their nephew in good humour when he gave a little jump back.

"Order of Merlin, for bravery in service during these dark times." He tentatively ran a finger along the glass box enclosing their wands. Everything in the Weasley household was used until it literally fell apart. With a house of seven living on the wages of one provider, it was necessary to make the most of what they had. The wands of Gideon and Fabian were the exception. His mother's brothers were honoured in their house for the sacrifice they had made. A magically expanded trunk in the attic held all of their trophies from the duelling circuit. There were so many it wasn't practical to keep them out on display. _Mum sometimes gets teary eyed when she walks by this picture. I don't think she wants more reminders of her brothers around the house. When Bill and Charlie left they had our uncles' battle robes fitted for them. The alterations cost more than buying a fancy new set of robes would. Bill said there were some serious runes of protection woven into them. As a curse breaker for Gringotts he would know. With them leaving the country, Mum wanted them to be well protected._

The Prewett's line had been nearly extinguished during the war. Bill was the Steward to the Prewett family as the eldest male descendant on his mother's side. If a magical male Prewett was not produced Bill would inherit everything. While the Prewett's were a pureblood line, they did not have great wealth. There was some land with a cottage on a modest sized vineyard, which was leased out for a small income. There was just enough quintessence to maintain the wards, Muggle repelling charms and the household charms. By no means was it even close to the power in the Weasley land. He was granted one vote in the Wizengamot. A vote that was also exchanged for the yearly tuition of one of Bill's brothers, just like the Weasley vote.

The only other living Prewett was his mother's cousin and he was a non magical (squib). Lewis Prewett was a nice enough chap that worked as an accountant in London. He still had ties to Gringotts since he worked the Muggle side of the currency exchange in the Wizarding world. Arthur and Lewis got along famously. Whenever Lewis stopped by for a visit he always brought Arthur a popular Muggle item saying it was the rave of England. As a favour, he helped Arthur with their taxes. With no children of his own and being a squib, Lewis forfeited his title and Bill remained the head of the Prewett line.

William Arthur Weasley, first of the seven Weasley offspring, was the next person on the wall. A good looking bloke with the trade mark red hair and freckles of the Weasley family, smiled in a friendly manner at Ron. Bill wasn't just smart he had a backbone. His fang earring and pony tail was worn with pride even in front of his Mum's disapproving eye. It wasn't just good grades alone that landed his Head Boy status. Bill was well liked by his peers and got along with everyone.

Beneath his picture hung a plaque for being the Head Boy of Hogwarts next to his award for receiving twelve outstanding OWLS. The bottom two plaques held his badge for each year that he served as Prefect. Bill was promptly snatched up by Gringotts as an apprentice curse breaker. When he became a journeyman, Bill opted to take up residency in Egypt to work on the tombs in the pyramids.

_He is the standard we are measured against. Mum thinks the world of Bill, their first child and nearly perfect in her eyes. Percy idolizes him and hopes to follow in his footsteps. The twins walk their own path but sometimes Mum hurts their feelings when she rants about grades. Bill was all set to pack up his awards when he left but Mum talked him out of it until he has a place of his own. Fred and George offered to Owl them to him after their first year grades came home. The scolding they received shook the pictures on the walls._

Ron's eyes drifted over to the next frame. The red haired young man in the Gryffindor Quidditch robes gazed back calmly. He was much stockier than any of his brothers. Charlie had finished with above average grades, not on par with Bill's, but nothing to be ashamed of either. Surprisingly, Charlie was an amazing Seeker at Quidditch. The best ones were often sleek and small in size. It gave them an edge in speed. However, Charlie used his size to disrupt the plays from the opposing chasers in his circuit to find the golden snitch. Once he locked on to the target of his search, Charlie was like a juggernaut in the air. He just ploughed right on through everything in his path. The smaller fliers steered clear of the flying menace.

There were just two plaques beneath his picture both of them were from his last two years at Hogwarts. As the team captain, he had led the Gryffindor Quidditch team to victory two years straight. Charlie also had a thing for animals and was often found in the company of Hagrid at Hogwarts. _Dad thinks Hagrid's fascination of dangerous creatures rubbed off on Charlie. Now he works in a Romanian dragon preserve. I think Mum would have liked it better if Charlie had accepted the offer to play Quidditch for England. Gryffindor hasn't won a single game since Charlie left. The Gryffindor's were practically drooling when Percy showed up. Everyone had assumed he was going to be the next Weasley Quidditch prodigy. Bill had laughed and told the Quidditch fanatics that Percy took more after him than Charlie and to wait for the next two Weasleys._

Percy peered down his nose at Ron as he moved over to the next frame. The spectacles perched upon his face furthered his air of haughtiness. There were no plaques beneath him. Instead, his grades had been framed and mounted around his picture along with the letter announcing his position as Prefect. Percy had indeed taken after Bill. He had received an Outstanding in every class and was returning to Hogwarts as a Prefect this year.

_The twins had surprisingly let the issue of Prefect alone until Percy warned them that he would not take it easy on them just because they were related. Percy certainly is book smart but he doesn't have an ounce of common sense. He would have been better off to stay on friendly terms with the twins than goad them like that. Just like I nod and pretend to believe their nonsense spells, like how to turn Scabbers yellow. It takes more than a corny rhyme and the flick of a wand to cast a spell. And really, wrestling a troll to get into Hogwarts! How gullible do they think I am? Now they won't rest until Percy breaks. I just hope Percy doesn't take his frustrations with the twins out on me. Unfortunately, the fifth year Prefects work with the first years. _

Naturally, the twins shared a picture. They wouldn't have had it any other way. The identical siblings chummed around with their arms around each other's shoulders. Once in awhile they would throw up the rabbit ears behind the other brother's head. Ron felt a bit jealous of the twins. They shared a room at home and a dorm at school. Wherever one twin was found the other was not far. Bill said they had been that way from the day they were born. The only time they cried was when they were separated. The two were the best of friends. _That is why Percy is so reclusive. Charlie was the athletic type and closer in age to Bill. He also didn't have the same interests as Percy. The twins, well they have each other. They're fun to be with but it's obvious to everyone that __**you**__ are with __**two of them**__, everyone except Lee Jordan anyway. At least I will be able to keep my grades above theirs. I'm sure I can manage better than the acceptable grades that they finished with, I hope so anyway._

His own picture was hung next and the two Rons watched each other cautiously. _I look all gangly. My hands are huge and my cowlick is sticking up. Everyone is going to make fun of me, I bet. My only claim to fame will be as the last Weasley boy to attend Hogwarts, at least for awhile anyway. Ginny will be the only one after me. Six boys and the first five were all in Gryffindor. What if I get sorted into another house? What if nobody likes me?_

The last picture was of Ginevra Molly Weasley, Ginny. She was sitting beneath the whomping willow in their front yard. Normally you would steer clear of such a tree, but this was Weasley land and it was warded to protect their family. The enormous sentinel was positioned close to the house for defence. It would attack any foe that was fool hardy enough to come knocking on their door. The tree had even been charmed to be resistant to fire, as well as, blasting and cutting hexes. Between the tree and other defensive plants, if anyone managed to clear the wards and approach the house they would be in for a wicked surprise.

She turned another page of the double sized Harry Potter special of the TeenWitch magazine as she leaned against the trunk of the whomping willow. A leafy branch tickled her ear and fluffed the ginger locks over her eyes playfully. Ginny laughed and batted at the teasing limb. After threading her long red hair behind her ear she leaned back against the guardian of the Weasley home.

Arthur's hand settled on Ron's shoulder in a comforting manner. They stood together watching Ginny's picture. "Ginny is going to miss you this year. It's going to be hard for her to be all alone."

Ron nodded his head mutely in reply to his father and tucked his hands in his pockets. His throat felt oddly thick. _I'll have to be sure to write her a couple of times._

"Have you talked with your brothers about Hogwarts?"

His red head nodded again. "Yes, sir, Percy just told me to work hard and not clown around like the twins. The twins had plenty to say, ninety percent of it's bullsh... er. I think they were just pullin' my plonker. I was thinking about owling Bill or Charlie instead."

"I might know a thing or two," Arthur offered.

Ron sighed in relief and turned to his father, then unloaded. "What's a good charm to lock my trunk? I don't want the twins or anyone else to do anything sneaky. Can I try out for Quidditch my first year? What if I'm not a Prefect, Head Boy or Quidditch Captain? What if my grades are miserable? What if... What if I don't get sorted into Gryffindor?"

When Ron stopped to get his wind back Arthur chuckled, "Now that is a list. I can teach you to ward your trunk to keep others out. Mind you it will only keep out the curious but a really determined person will find a way around it. Percy might be able to help you find something more potent in the Hogwarts library. First years are allowed to try out for Quidditch, if cleared by Madam Hooch. However, it has been a very long time since a first year made the team."

Arthur watched Ron, trying to tell if he was addressing his son's concerns. When Ron's cheeks flushed and he ducked his head, Arthur knew he had. After a moment he then raised his hand to the back of Ron's head and pulled him close. He kissed the top of Ron's head before answering the last question. "Your family will be proud of you and support you, no matter what house you are sorted into. Just be yourself son, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

He peered up at his Dad and returned a tentative smile. _Well the twins can be determined alright. Hopefully they will sod off after just a couple of pranks. So it's doubtful that I will make the Quidditch team, I can still try out. Then they will at least know I am interested in playing. I'm not too keen about sharing a room with a bunch of other blokes but I'll survive. _

"What about hazing and pranking the first years? The twins told me some pretty awful things. Like putting a sticking charm on the seats in the loo or hexing students in the halls. Will I have to polish their boots and run errands for them?"

"So they still have the first years doing service for the seventh years?" Ron nodded his head to this. _The prats told me I would have to serve them._

"In my seventh year, I had my first year boy press my robes and shirts, polish my boots, run notes to your Mum, and bring me breakfast. That was the best part not having to get up so early for breakfast. As long as your seventh year boy is a decent chap it shouldn't be too bad. There's not much to be done about the pranks though. The Professors do their best to keep things like that to a minimum. If anyone hurts you, tell your brothers and Head of House immediately. Percy is a Prefect this year and I think that will discourage others from harassing you too much. I will have a word with the twins about teasing you."

"No, don't do that. I would rather take my chances with Fred and George than have you talk with them." Ron urged in a panic. _Their pranks are pretty funny. They only get bad when you make them mad. If the twins are right about Percy, than it is more likely that I will be a target because of what he does as a Prefect. I know he means well but sometimes I don't think he gets it. Percy can sometimes be pretty stuck-up and the twins can be down right mean._

**o~o~O~o~o**

"Another one! How many times are they going to make his card," Draco complained loudly before tossing the collectible aside.

Narcissa tipped her head back at the outburst from her only child. She frowned at her son as she threaded her satin smooth hair away from her face. Draco was not prone to such displays of impropriety. He had been reared as an aristocrat. As the heir of two powerful houses Draco would one day have more influence than even his father.

Ignorant of his mother's glare, Draco held the squirming chocolate frog in his hand, relishing the feel of it struggling to be free before biting its head off. Once its head was removed the frog ceased struggling. Now that the enchantment animating the frog was broken he set aside the half eaten treat. Draco was used to eating much more expensive chocolates and didn't particularly care for the plebeian taste. If it weren't for the trading cards and playing with the animated frog, he wouldn't bother. As a bonus, his mother thought it was disgusting when he chewed off various parts of the frog. Watching her go pale and see her lips tighten disapprovingly was a reward in itself. As a result, when he asked for chocolate frogs she would often offer to take him to a Chocolatier in France.

He turned his attention to the discarded collectible. A wizened old man with a long white beard looked up at the lacquered blond haired boy who had cast him upon the ground. He righted the pointy purple hat with blazing gold runes and straightened his matching purple robes. The Headmaster's eyes began to twinkle benevolently when Draco picked the card back up. A silent O of shock lit the venerable wizard's face when the boy flipped him over and slapped him back down on the floor.

In an arrogant voice Draco read the back of the card:

"**Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts (born 1881): **Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Gellert Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel (creator of the Philosopher's Stone). Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling."

"Did you hear that Father? Albus Dumbledore is considered the greatest wizard of modern times," he said carefully watching the patriarch for his reaction.

A regal man with meticulously groomed blond hair turned his gray eyes upon the product of his loins. "If it is printed upon a child's trading card, then it must be true." He answered in a convincing tone.

Perfectly aligned white teeth greeted his father's sarcastic answer.

Looking through the stack of trading cards, Draco found the other new card in his collection. It pictured a young couple holding a baby. He turned the card over to skeptically read the back in a more subdued tone:

"**Harry James Potter (born July 31st 1980): **The first wizard to survive the Killing Curse, earning the title of The-Boy-Who-Lived. Famous for defeating the most dangerous dark wizard of all time, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Now Lucius and Narcissa were both observing their son with more interest.

"Ha! Who would believe that a baby could beat any wizard? It's just silly to think he could defeat the Dark Lord," he said confidently. His smile broadened when the patriarch nodded in approval.

_Were the cards printed in anticipation of Harry Potter? What was the point of another edition of Albus's card? Someone approved of the new prints. I wonder who and why? _Lucius debated the relevance to himself.

"What is new about the Headmaster," he asked his son.

"Well the whole bit about Nicolas Flamel and their alchemy accomplishments. What's the Philosopher's Stone?"

"There is only one in existence that we know of and it was created by Nicolas Flamel. It grants the owner immortal life and can turn any metal into gold. The Wizengamot limited the amount of gold he could create because of the affect on the economy. The Philosopher's Stone was an extraordinary creation. It is curious how the card states that Albus is the greatest wizard of 'modern times', Nicolas Flamel's achievements were by far greater and I believe upon his return to France in the eighteenth that a Dark Wizard was defeated. There have been no further uprisings since then. France has enjoyed a golden era for the last three centuries," Lucius answered distractedly.

_Why mention Nicolas Flamel now? I know that in the late eighteen hundreds a French solicitor representing Flamel sued any publication mentioning his name. He did not need the money. It was to repress any knowledge of him. So why risk his wrath? What is the significance of the timing? Is it just an attempt to cash in on the boy's fame? Diagon Alley is having a week long sale in celebration of Harry Potter's eleventh birthday. There has been absolutely no mention of 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' since he disappeared October 31st, 1981. Supposed sightings are occasionally reported but there are no pictures or credible witnesses. It is like he is a myth; not even the ministry has an address for the Potter boy. I spent a substantial amount of gold trying to find out what happened to Narcissa and Andromeda's cousin. Perhaps it is time to try another approach._

The young wizard turned his attention back to the stack of collector's cards and pile of unopened chocolate frogs when he saw his father begin to brood. It was never a good idea to interrupt the man when he was deep in thought. As he began to open the next treat his mother interrupted him.

"How would you like to visit France this afternoon, Draco? We could stop at the Chocolatier you like and get you some new tailored dress robes. The awful school robes we are forced to dress you in for Hogwarts will not do for any of the events we attend," Narcissa invited her son. _I will also get to have another afternoon with you before school begins. The last eleven years have gone by far too quickly. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ron is out of character. I like a good Weasley bashing as much as the next person but I thought it would be good to mix it up. It has always bothered me that Harry's 'best mate' was such a self centred bore.**

**Story Recommendation****: Harry The Hufflepuff by BajaB, story id 6466185 and Harry The Hufflepuff part 2 by BajaB, story id 7330591. Brilliant comedy, one of the few stories in the humour genre I have enjoyed. If you prefer something more serious, read Fugitives of Azkaban story id 3595986 by BagaB or The Substitute story id 4641394 by BajaB. **

**Thank you for reading the chapter. A great deal of time and effort has been committed to this story. The biggest reward you can give is a review. All comments are welcome.**

**-Melverne**


	2. Harry Hunting

**Disclaimer: I am borrowing from the creative mind of J.K. Rowling.**

**Rating: This story is M for a reason. There is crude content, foul language and violence in the story. If this offends you, don't read it. **

**Thank you to my beta Zarathustra46. If you have not read Vows, you should check it out. There are now three parts to the series. They are Vows, Duty and Honour. I have them listed as a favourite on my profile page and in my community, Melverne's Picks.**

**A/N: If you have read Hogwarts School of War Wizardry (a story I posted but removed), most of it has been incorporated into this story. For more details on my ideas about the Harry Potter universe see my profile page. I am always looking for a good Harry Potter story to read. PM me if you have a suggestion to add to my community, Melverne's Picks.**

**Thicker Than Mud**

**Chapter 2: Harry Hunting**

**Time: Spring 1991**

**Place: Little Whinging, Surrey**

* * *

><p>The chatter of excited children filled the crowded cafeteria. As one they inched forward through the queue waiting for the lunchroom ladies to fill the dull orange sectioned trays with the day's cuisine. The chain of student bodies was broken by one small black haired little boy, standing alone in line as if an invisible barrier separated him from the rest of his classmates. Harry shuffled forward head down waiting for his meal to be dispensed.<p>

Harry firmly held onto his tray as he slid it over the silver rails along the counter. One hand held out in front of his food protecting it from being smashed into. The rowdy boys in front of him were pushing a train of trays backwards trying to bump the last platter into his.

"Stop it," the tall skinny boy in front of Harry shouted when their meals nearly collided. The other boys laughed in response before pushing the line of trays back again.

The playing stopped as they neared the register under the scrutinizing eye of the cashier. "You dump it. You clean it up," she warned.

The boys rushed from the line to one of the long tables. The tall skinny boy took long quick strides trying to cut in front of one of his friends, so he wouldn't be the last to sit down. It was bad enough that he had to stand in line next to Harry.

"Sit here," a curly haired girl cried out patting the seat next to her as she eyed Harry leaving the lunch queue with his food.

"No, sit by me," another girl across the table called in a desperate squeaky voice.

As one the three boys sat down spreading out so there would be no room next to them when they were done. The first girl sighed in relief and offered an apologetic smile to the other girl sitting across from her.

"I'm not sitting by him," she announced standing up. The girl grabbed her tray and carried it around to sit at the end of the table on the other side.

"Budge up," she commanded.

"There's no room," the boy teased.

"Make room," the girl threatened leaning over him.

"Fine," he said sliding over pushing his friends on down.

"That's naff! You can't move," the girl with an empty spot next to her shouted. She slid over, taking up as much room as possible trying to force Harry to sit at the next table.

Harry walked around the table looking for a place to sit.

"Not here. Sit down there," she said rudely and pointed at the end of the rectangular table.

He looked around the lunchroom for the teacher on patrol. They were very strict about the seating. You were supposed to sit down in the order that you went through the line. There was no saving seats for friends or anything you just sat down in the next empty spot. The teachers didn't put up with any mucking around.

A small crowd of children started to pool at the end of the table waiting for Harry to sit down. None of them would sit for fear of having to be next to him. A teacher started to walk in their direction with a stern expression on his face.

"You were next." "You sit next to him." "I'm not sittin by stinky Potter," the group bickered amongst themselves.

Harry was getting nervous as the teacher approached and sat down at the end of the table hoping to avoid trouble. The others quickly swooped to the table, shuffling about so they wouldn't have to sit next to Harry. In their efforts to be as far from Harry as possible they were packed in so tight that there was enough room for one more person next to Harry.

"I'm not sittin there." The remaining boy sneered and turned to go to the next table which had began to fill.

"Troy, sit down," the teacher barked.

"I am Mr Lynch," the brown haired boy answered in a snotty tone as he continued to walk over to the next table.

"Sit down right here," Lynch commanded pointing to the seat next to Harry.

"There's no room," Troy complained although it was quite clear there was plenty of space.

"Harry, move down for Troy," Mr Lynch said motioning for Harry to slide down the bench. He knew the quiet boy would do as he was told.

Another student groaned at the command knowing she would now have to sit next to Harry.

"But he smells, Mr Lynch! I'll puke if I have to sit next to him," Troy complained in an outdoor voice. Several students snickered in response.

Harry cautiously slid down the bench and stopped when the girl glared at him. "You better not even touch me," she said in a scathing tone.

"Now sit down Troy. Harry, go see the nurse after you are finished," Mr Lynch said wrinkling his nose in distaste when he got to close.

Inwardly, Harry sighed knowing the familiar chain of events that would follow. The nurse would make him put some deodorant on, although Harry was still too young for body odor. It wasn't overly active sweat glands that made Harry smell. He wasn't allowed to shower often enough. The two sets of clothes he had tended to smell pretty ripe by the end of the week before he was allowed to run them through the laundry.

Later in the day a note would be sent home with him or the nurse would call Petunia Dursley to remind her that Harry needed to bathe more often. Petunia would vent at him for being so dirty. Dudley would tell everyone at school and Harry would be cruelly mocked for a few days. The nice thing was that for awhile he would be allowed to shower more than once or twice a week. His clothes would be checked by Petunia and if she felt it were warranted, Harry would get something from the growing pile of clothes that Dudley had outgrown.

As soon as the teacher walked away, the girl sitting next to Harry leaned forward and snarled at Troy. "Thanks a lot, you wanker. Now I have to sit next to him too."

Harry ducked his head ignoring the two children sitting next to him. He plucked the apple from his tray and admired it for a moment before reaching under the table and dropping it into one of his pockets. That was one of the benefits of the enormous trousers he was wearing; he could carry quite a bit in them.

After slipping the apple into the pocket of his baggy pants, Harry glanced around the lunchroom table. He did a quick head count to see how far away Dudley sat, then checked Dudley's tray to see how much time he had to eat. Harry tried to take time to properly chew his food to help absorb the nutrients when he could. Unfortunately, there were times it was necessary to bolt down the food before Dudley took something, knocked it to the floor or spit in it.

**o~o~O~o~o**

_It had been a long weekend for Harry. The proceeding Friday had not been kind to him. Vernon had been in a frightful mood and took the Mickey out of Harry. After belittling him the entire time Harry set the table, Vernon found a sudden dislike for the boy's attitude and banished him to the corner to watch them eat. Once they finished eating Vernon continued to scrutinize every move Harry made, daring him to nick a scrap of anything. Satisfied that nothing escaped the garbage disposal, Vernon relaxed. _

_"Get me a cigar, Boy," Vernon growled as he leaned back in the chair._

_"Yes, sir," he complied. Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste as he trotted from the room to fetch Vernon's box of cigars. He liked the way they smelled but he couldn't stand the smoke. On a good day the cigar smoke would bring tears to Harry's eyes and his chest would tighten until he started a hacking fit. _

_Harry hurried back to the kitchen and opened the box offering Vernon a cigar. Vernon took his time selecting one. He held the cigar up to his big flat nose and inhaled appreciatively. Harry handed Vernon the cigar cutter and the corners of his mouth twitched in mirth as he remembered when a client set Vernon straight and told him that he was ruining good cigars by biting the ends off. Prior to Vernon being told of his unrefined habit, he would spit the cigar tips at Harry. Harry still had to pick up the cut ends but Vernon was no longer spitting them at him. The funny memory tugged upwards at the corners of Harry's mouth, producing the shadow of a smile which fled in a moment._

_The big man arched his eyebrow at the little boy in front of him. He didn't like the hint of amusement that passed over the freak's normally somber expression. "Something funny?" Vernon asked with a dangerous edge to his voice as he snipped the end of the cigar off. _

_"No, sir," Harry said meekly holding out the silver Zippo lighter. _

_Vernon scowled at Harry as he exchanged the cigar cutter for the lighter. He flicked his wrist opening the lighter and thumbed the wheel. Harry flinched at the quick motion of the man's hand. A chuckle rumbled from Vernon. Holding the cigar to the flame he took two sharp puffs to light it and one long draw._

_Ducking to the floor, Harry picked up the cigar end and stood back up just in time for Vernon to blow smoke in his face. Harry's face turned green as the stench made his empty stomach roll like a rowboat in a stormy sea. He held his breath and waited for his stomach to calm. Just when he thought it was better his stomach lurched violently. Harry's lunch erupted onto Vernon._

"_Oh god," Harry murmured. His hands immediately went to wipe the bile from Vernon. _

_Vernon leaped to his feet and backhanded Harry viscously._

_Harry threw up his hands in a boxer's cover up just in time. He fearfully clenched his fists in front of his face blocking the backhanded slap. With ill earned practice he dropped his forearms to shelter his chest in anticipation of multiple blows. Even with the last ditch defense, Harry staggered from the blow. _

"_I'm sorry. Please let me clean it up," Harry begged pitifully from behind his tucked in arms. _

_In a blind rage Vernon swung again catching Harry in the breadbasket. Harry tensed his abdominal muscles and excelled sharply from his nose emptying his stomach of air to protect his internal organs from damage. The body blow lifted Harry from the floor and threw Harry's small frame into the kitchen counter._

_Harry bounced off the cabinet and fell to the floor. He rolled onto his hands and knees and gave a dry heave, since his stomach had already purged what little bit of food was in there. Vernon kicked him once in the back near the small boy's waistline. Unbidden tears sprang to Harry's eyes as he writhed in silent agony at Vernon's feet. _

_Watching Harry squirm on the floor, Vernon picked up his cigar. He took another long draw to get it good and hot. Vernon leaned over grabbed Harry by the wrist and pulled back his sleeve. Vernon's eyes glinted angrily as he ground his cigar into Harry's exposed forearm. "This will teach you," Vernon promised darkly._

_Harry screamed and thrashed about wildly trying to pull his arm free. It smelled awful in the kitchen. The stench from the cigar smoke hung in the air but there was a hint of something else. Harry's stomach gave a sour gurgle from the smell of his sizzling flesh._

_"This mess had better be cleaned up before I get back," Vernon threatened as he let go of Harry and dropped the cigar. _

_After cleaning the kitchen Harry was locked in his cupboard. Harry laid upon the thin ratty mattress with his left arm hanging over the edge. His forearm rested lightly on the cool tile to soothe the burn. Much later after the Dursleys went to sleep, Harry gingerly stood up and turned on the light. The naked bulb flickered to life as Harry placed a hand on his aching back and tried stretching to relieve the pain. His bladder felt uncomfortably swollen and Harry knew he had to use the loo. Locked in for the night Harry had no choice but to use the mop bucket. Harry kicked off his trainers, unbuckled his belt and slipped off his trousers before jigging over to the pail. He lifted the tail of his shirt and relieved himself._

_Even in the poor light Harry could see the blood in his urine. The flow of fluid was interrupted a moment when Harry panicked and clenched his stomach muscles. **Oh shite. I'm bleeding!**_

_Once Harry finished his business, he gently probed the back of his waist. The area between his hip bone and below the rib cage felt tender. Harry had spent too much time assessing his injuries and had long since learned how to tend himself. _

_**Vernon must have hit my kidney. If I drink a lot of water, it should clear up faster. Hopefully it will be better tomorrow. Maybe when I work in the yard, I can drink from the hose.** Harry thought to himself. _

_The book on boxing he had read proved to be extremely valuable. Harry had learned how to take a hit and cover himself to prevent severe injury. Being used as a punching bag by Dudley and his friends gave Harry ample opportunity to learn how to protect himself. It had honed his reflexes enough to give him some damage control against Vernon. There just wasn't much you could do against someone that weighed twenty one stones more than he did. _

_The floor boards above creaked and Harry quickly yanked the chain turning off the light. He shuffled forward feeling for the mattress of his old baby crib with his stocking clad feet. After stubbing his big toe on the corner of the mattress Harry gently lowered himself to a resting position and rolled onto the side that was not as sore. He pulled his shirt lower covering his bare rear end and tucked his legs up under the shirt for a little more warmth. Cradling his injured arm Harry drifted off to sleep._

_The rest of the weekend Harry tried working especially hard to win back Vernon's good graces or at least a cold indifference. Petunia gave him bread and water when Harry's growling stomach became too irksome. He could control his tongue and keep himself from begging for something to eat but his stomach voiced its complaints loudly. By Sunday there was only a hint of pink in his urine and Harry sighed in relief that it wasn't more serious. _

_The meagre allotment of food from the weekend had left Harry light headed and positively famished. He could barely control himself as he stood in line waiting for something to eat. His lunch ticket was in hand ready to be punched. Harry's fingers would stray to the food pinching pieces off to put in his mouth. Each time his fingers lingered in his mouth to lick every morsel. _

_Harry ducked low and hurried to a seat ignoring the protests of the other children when he sat down next to them. After a few years the groans and hurtful comments from his classmates no longer bothered him. His stomach gurgled as he opened his juice pack not noticing that Dudley had sat down across from him. After a moment Dudley reached over to Harry's tray making a grab for the dessert._

_Startled by the move Harry reacted without considering the consequences. His hand lashed out of its own accord slapping Dudley's pudgy hand away from the biscuit. The resounding smack echoed in the lunch room. Soon the neck of every student at the table craned in their direction to watch the confrontation. _

"_That's mine," Harry growled._

_Dudley's eyes bulged in disbelief as he unconsciously cradled his stinging hand. A giggle escaped from a nearby spectator. Dudley's head snapped around to see who dared to laugh at him. Nobody would meet Dudley's accusing glare. He turned his attention back to Harry. Dudley's sinuses rumbled deeply until he could hack a big wad of phlegm onto Harry's gravy covered mystery meat. Dudley grinned wickedly at Harry, "Enjoy, Freak."_

_The spit oozed over the slice of meat and pooled at the bottom of the tray congealing with the gravy. Harry stared at the nasal backwash on his plate and almost gagged at the thought of eating the meal. Harry knew he would catch hell from the Dursleys and miss a meal later, if he went back for a replacement._

_To everyone's astonishment Harry picked up his fork with grim determination. He carefully separated the spit from his food trying to salvage as much of the meal as he could. The contamination was scraped to the side of the tray leaving a string of spit between the fork and meat. _

_A collective, "Ewwww," answered his effort to save the food as children at his table leaned forward in their seats to watch with morbid fascination. Harry thoroughly wiped the fork off and dabbed at the bubbles of saliva in an effort to get most of it off his tray. _

_"He's going to eat it," someone in the audience jeered._

_"No way!" cried the crowd in disbelief._

_The crowd hushed in anticipation watching every move Harry made. Harry did his best to carry on as if nothing was wrong. A sharp hunger pang took Harry's breath away, spurring him to sever a piece of meat and spear it with the fork. His hand trembled with contempt for himself as he placed the food in his mouth. The room erupted around him in response. _

_"That is so gross! I can't believe he ate it." _

_The school talked about it for weeks, ostracizing him even further from the other students._

**o~o~O~o~o**

Dudley was nearly done with his lunch, Harry observed. It was going to be a race to finish today.

"Anyone want my pudding? I'll trade for an apple," Harry asked. The desserts served at school were relished by all of the students but didn't transport very well. The fruits could last an entire weekend and was more filling. So, he always traded the dessert away.

Whenever they were offered a choice for lunch Harry always took what made him feel the fullest. He kept anything that was sealed, like packages of crackers, or things he could take home with him. The Dursleys often withheld food as a punishment. Most of the uneaten food went into the garbage disposal instead of the bin. The Dursleys knew that Harry would dig through the garbage to retrieve food, if he had the opportunity.

Harry waited a minute for the offer to be accepted by the boy two seats down. If Harry ate anything on the tray first, there was a chance that nobody would trade because of his cooties. So Harry patiently waited for the food to be exchanged before eating. Harry tucked the second apple in his other pocket saving both for later. Reflecting on all of Dudley's misdeeds in the lunchroom that he suffered through and hoping to avoid another degrading experience, Harry rapidly devoured his food.

Despite his troubles, Harry didn't mind school; in fact he enjoyed it a great deal. He was a very curious boy with many questions. The Dursleys made it perfectly clear that he was to be silent in their presence and the teachers had given up on Harry long ago. So Harry listened keenly in class, took notes and researched anything he didn't understand at the library. Self-edification had become an integral part of his life.

In his early years of school Harry had made the grievous error of achieving top marks in every subject and had suffered for it severely with one of the worst beatings of his short life. Since then he had faced the challenge of keeping his grades lower than Dudley's and high enough to satisfy the teachers. Often this was a very slim margin and Harry had to help Dudley, usually by leaving his homework out for Dudley to take. It was easier to maintain the charade by knowing all the answers. So Harry diligently applied himself to his school work and purposely missed just enough answers to keep everyone happy.

School was a complex ordeal for Harry. He preferred to think of himself as a secret agent in her majesty's service and attending school as a dangerous mission. On his mission, it was imperative to avoid drawing any attention to himself. Questions were avoided at all costs and his life away from school was not to be mentioned in any way for fear of jeopardizing his safety. Association with others was not allowed.

The last objective was the easiest because of his ridiculous appearance. Harry's black hair was an uncombed tangled up mess standing out in all directions. The long bangs obscured the lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead, which he thought was pretty cool. It was the only scar on his body that the Dursleys had not given him. According to Petunia, it was from the car accident which had killed his parents. She did not like seeing the scars on Harry and he thought she might have told him a story about the one on his forehead to get him to stop asking about it. It drew her attention to the ones she was all too familiar with. She even quit nagging him about keeping his hair out of his eyes after that.

The bulky outdated glasses perched on his nose comically magnified his inquisitive green eyes making him look like a startled owl. He was small for his age and for the boys two or three grades behind him as well. The clothes draping from his small frame were by far too large for Harry. He often became entangled in his own clothing and frequently tripped over the giant sized shoes. Harry had a very limited wardrobe, which consisted of two enormous pairs of jeans (with one belt to keep his modesty intact), two oversized shirts, one sweatshirt and a pair of trainers with no treads.

He kept all of the socks but threw out the pants. The few times he tried to wear the underclothes they sagged beneath his trousers and bunched up so uncomfortably he quit wearing them. In the winter he could double or even triple layer the socks to keep his feet warm, since he didn't have a pair of boots. Even though he alternated the hand me down clothes from Dudley everyday, Harry still became very pungent by the end of the week.

This weekend was the third Sunday of the month and it was Petunia Dursley's turn to host the bridge club. On special occasions when guests were coming over, the house had to be spotless. Which meant Harry was going to be very busy this weekend. He was already doing a mental checklist of the chores that would be waiting for him. Normally Harry would hide out in the library after school to avoid Dudley and the Dunderheads, but he didn't have the time to wait until it was safe. So, when the last bell rang, Harry jumped up and made a run for it.

"Potter! Stop right there," Mrs Jordan commanded. "I don't care if it is Friday, I will not tolerate anyone stampeding from my room. Now, sit down. You can just wait until everyone else has left."

A few kids snickered and someone let loose with, "Busted." Harry handled it well, even when Dudley sauntered by humming 'A hunting we will go'. Harry fidgeted in his seat when the last student left the room.

Mrs Jordan sighed, "You're dismissed."

Harry half expected a bugle call from Dudley, to announce the hunt, when he stepped out of the classroom. There were five of them waiting. Dudley stepped away from the lockers with the other four in tow and followed Harry down the hall. Harry considered his options as he was escorted to his locker. There was no reason not to stop and get what he needed for the weekend, now that there was little chance of escaping unscathed. He learned early and harshly in life that he could not retaliate against Dudley in anyway. Piers was also off limits since his Mom was in the bridge club with Petunia Dursley. Vernon Dursley had a heavy hand and was swift to reprimand Harry, no matter whose fault it was. Dennis, Malcomb and Gordon were fair game and would take the lumps they deserved.

_I might not get away, but next time they won't be so excited to go Harry Hunting,_ Harry promised himself.

Harry picked up the pace to get a lead. He opened the door just enough to let his slender body slip through then immediately stomped his foot down on the other side of the door. Malcomb rushed after Harry, pushing the door against the heel of Harry's foot and banged his head on the unyielding door. Malcomb stopped in front of the door to sharply rub the knot forming on his sore forehead. Dudley quickly diverted to the other door holding up the other pursuers behind him.

With the two doors temporarily blocked, Harry started to run but the heel of his shoe caught under the door almost pulling it off. He made a few awkward strides before slowing down to force his heel back into the shoe. Unfortunately, this gave Dennis enough time to squeeze around Malcomb and grab Harry's arm. The sudden jerk on his arm started to spin Harry around. Seeing that it was Dennis that had a hold of him, Harry let the momentum swing him around. He clenched a fist and pasted one on Dennis' jaw knocking him arse over kettle. Harry staggered a few steps away from the stunned boy and was starting to hit his stride again when Piers flew into him. The bigger boy tackled Harry around the knees and sent them plummeting to the ground. Harry threw his hands out in front of him to soften his fall. His palms skidded painfully across the pavement as he fell. The hunting party circled around their fallen prey and started praising themselves.

"Nice one, Piers!"

"Yeah, you nailed him."

Gordon gave Piers a hand up and patted him on the back. "Way to go," he congratulated.

Harry turned his hands over to look at his throbbing palms. Specks of gravel were embedded in the ragged skin. Blood had begun to trickle down his wrists. The open air caused the scraps and cuts to burn.

Dennis stomped on Harry's hand. He put full his weight onto the palm of Harry's hand and ground his knuckles into the pavement. "That's what you get for punching me. You prat."

"Now what should we do to him this time," Dudley asked maliciously and cracked his knuckles in anticipation.

Harry closed his legs tightly and pulled his knees to his chest. He knew from first hand experience nothing was too low for Dudley. The foetal position made him an easy target for physical abuse but it better protected the head, vital organs and his nads.

"Let's give him a right pasting," Piers suggested.

"Yeah," Dennis echoed eager to get back at Harry even more than he had already.

Dudley nodded to Piers then stalked around Harry who curled up even tighter and covered his head. Frustrated about the limited targets, Dudley gave Harry a hard kick in the arse. "Get him on his feet," Dudley commanded.

Dennis and Malcomb rolled Harry onto his butt and into an upright sitting position. They each grabbed an arm and tried to pull Harry to his feet. The smaller boy clutched his arms close to his face and clenched his gut holding his legs close to his stomach. This forced the boys to bodily lift him up. Once they had him in the air, Harry kicked out with his right heel. He caught Dennis with a solid mule kick to his upper thigh, causing them to drop Harry to the ground. Harry kicked out again getting Malcomb in the shins nearly knocking him to the ground.

The two boys stood over Harry and started kicking him in return. "Wanna kick you little turd? Do ya? Huh?"

Harry resumed his foetal position and staunchly weathered the blows without a sound. Assuming they had kicked the fight out of Harry, they rolled him back onto his butt in a sitting position. Gordon got behind Harry, leaned down and stuck his hands under Harry's arm pits to lift him up. Harry got his feet beneath him and suddenly stood up of his own accord catching Gordon beneath the chin on the way up.

Gordon's jaw snapped shut with a crack and he stumbled back away from Harry and landed on his bum. Dennis and Malcomb made their move and grabbed Harry's arms as he began to thrash around wildly. Harry's arm came loose for a second and he elbowed Malcomb in the face bloodying his nose.

Piers came up behind Harry and slipped him into a head lock. Harry was about to stomp on Piers' foot but thought better of it. With the bridge party this weekend he didn't want to give Vernon an excuse to take him to task because Piers' mother complained that Harry hit her little boy.

Dudley stepped up with an evil leer on his face and begun to work Harry over like a punching bag. The heavy boy riddled Harry's torso with multiple hits before starting to hit him in the stomach. He was careful to never hit Harry in the face. When the hits started drifting lower, Harry swiveled his hips and brought up a knee to avoid a hit to his nadgers. After a few minutes Dudley slowed down and came to a stop. He leaned over to catch his breath and was just shy of wheezing.

He peered at Harry hanging like a rag doll between Dennis and Malcomb. Harry had let his knees buckle making the other two boys work to keep him on his feet. It was better for them to exert more effort holding him up than to stand on his own. This way he could conserve his energy for the next event while they tired themselves out.

Noticing that Dudley was watching him, Harry leaned over and spat onto Dennis' shoe.

"Crap! That's gross, you tosser," Dennis complained.

Harry smiled in reply.

"Alright, let's barrel him," Dudley panted. Inside, Dudley was raging that Harry had not shed a single tear and had the gall to smile at him.

Dudley's crew each grabbed one of Harry's limbs and carried him over to the garbage bin. Harry arched his back, spreading his arms and legs wide to keep out of the barrel. _Like bloody 'ell, I'm not going to just let you stick me in the bin._

Dudley saw his chance and pounced on Harry. He punched him right between the legs. The smack of Dudley's fist against Harry's goolies echoed in the courtyard. Harry's shout of pain punctuated the smack.

Harry's wiry body gave a spasm from the shot to his nuts. He curled in on himself to lessen the pain. The gang of little thugs let go of Harry's now slack form and watched him slide miserably to the bottom of the barrel. The savage blow had subdued Harry completely.

Dudley grinned in satisfaction as Harry disappeared. There wasn't much that Dudley could do to Harry anymore that would make him cry or indicate that he was in pain other than to hit him in the bullocks. After being smacked a few times in the worst place a ten year old boy could get hit, Harry learned to start protecting that part of his anatomy when Dudley and his crew got a hold of him.

"Ouch! Just seeing that makes my nads hurt," Dennis commented, crossing his legs.

"Man, Dud, you got him right where it counts," Malcomb lauded.

"Hope he doesn't plan on having any kids," Piers joked.

Gordon brayed, in an annoying laugh, at the lewd comments as the boys limped away nursing their injuries from the latest hunt.

A bruised and battered Harry sighed in relief, once it was over. He had been so successful evading Dudley and the dunderheads lately; Harry almost forgot how bad it could be when he got caught. He did a mental inventory of the various aches and pains to distract himself from thinking about being stuck. The pain in his groin was subsiding to a dull ache and his scraped palms still stung, but there was nothing crippling. Now, it was time to consider his predicament.

Harry was folded over so his knees were in his face, which made it hard to breathe. The garbage can was narrow enough that Harry couldn't turn around in it but he had some wiggle room. It was too tall for him to grab the rim of the container. Harry tried to rock the barrel back and forth to knock it over. Thinking that if gravity wasn't working against him he might be able to squirm his way out, but he couldn't get the garbage can to budge. Harry hollered for help but everyone was anxious to go home for the weekend and had left. He didn't know when the garbage would be emptied and the Dursleys sure wouldn't bother to go look for him.

After an hour, Harry was getting really uncomfortable. The metal receptacle was heating up in the afternoon sun baking the garbage and Harry. Each stench filled breath was getting harder and harder. His back was beginning to scream in protest from the weight resting on it in such an awkward position. He tried pushing himself up on the tips of his fingers with one hand and desperately grabbed for the rim with his other hand. Realizing it was hopelessly out of reach he beat his fist against the bin in frustration. Then he shouted for help until his throat was raw. Nothing worked. Harry was getting worked up and starting to panic when there was a sudden pop and he shot out of the barrel like it was a cannon. Harry landed in a heap a few feet away. He looked around in slack-jawed astonishment then grabbed his rucksack and ran for the Dursleys' home.

Harry ran around to the back door of the house and rang the bell. The Dursley's didn't trust Harry with a key and insisted that he used the back door so the neighbour's wouldn't notice him. He was starting to think nobody heard him and was going to risk ringing the bell a second time, which really irritated Petunia, when the door opened.

"Where have you been? Wasting time at the library again," she accused.

Hearing his Mum's angry voice Dudley wandered into the kitchen with Piers to get a soda and watch Harry get scolded.

"No, ma'am, I was detained," Harry hesitantly answered, watching Dudley and Piers.

"Hmpf. I should have known you would manage to get in trouble." Petunia looked him over critically, noticing Harry's grazed palms and bruised jaw. "Fighting again, no doubt, you hooligan. Wait until Vernon gets home. He'll be furious with you for ruining our weekend like this."

Harry wanted to reply, "Your great big bully of a son and a few of his friends jumped me after school and stuffed me in a garbage bin. Oh, and thank you for caring enough to ask." Instead, Harry bit his tongue and hung his head so no one could see the outrage blazing in his eyes.

Petunia sniffed loudly and turned her nose up in disgust. "What is that awful smell?" She scowled at Harry and gave a short sniff in his direction. "Out! Get out of the house. You'll smell the place up."

Dudley and Piers were doubled over and gasping for air between fits of laughter. Tears of mirth streaked down Dudley's fat cheeks as he fought to stop laughing. "Hose him down Mum," Dudley advised.

Petunia marched around to the garden hose. "Come here," she commanded Harry. She uncoiled a few feet of hose and started to spray Harry. "Stand still." Petunia walked around Harry spraying every inch of him before she was satisfied. Water dripped from the tips of Harry's fingers and the end of his nose. The soaked clothes sagged on Harry.

Dudley was laughing so hard now he could no longer stand up. So he sat on the ground holding his sides and rocked back and forth saying, "I'm going to be sick. I'm going to be sick."

Piers was bent over with both hands on his knees. He was fighting to catch his breath between great whooping bursts of laughter.

"You can start the yard work. The hedges need to be trimmed and the grass needs mowed. That should keep you too busy to find more mischief," Petunia said, dismissing Harry.

Harry spent the rest of the day working in the yard. Dirt, grass clippings and everything else clung to his wet clothes succeeding in making Harry even dirtier and smellier. He found something to do on the other side of the house when Vernon came home. Harry took a break to eat one of the apples he'd saved, instead of going to the back door to ask for supper, fearful that it would set Vernon off. Everything was cleaned and put away by dark before Harry knocked on the back door to be let in. He shuddered when it was Vernon who answered and beckoned Harry in for the night.

The big man took one look at the filthy boy standing in the kitchen and said, "Petunia says you've been fighting again."

Harry fidgeted and turned his bruised jaw away from Vernon's scrutiny hoping the issue would just be dropped. He started shaking when Vernon reached toward him. His hand grabbed a fistful of Harry's long sleeved shirt and pulled it up exposing his chest. Harry's ribs were littered with bruises.

"Heh, that's what I thought." Vernon said with satisfaction of seeing further proof. He pulled off his belt, hefting the weight of it in his hands. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Vernon wound the belt in his hands waiting for the trembling boy to reply. He grabbed the ends of the belt and tugged it causing the belt to crack. Harry jumped back a step. "Well?"

"N-n-n-no sir," Harry stammered apologetically as he watched the belt.

After a good strapping, Harry staggered along the hall behind Vernon. The big man dragged the boy behind him squeezing Harry's right arm near the shoulder. It was the only thing holding the exhausted boy up. Vernon stopped at the cupboard and Harry dazedly walked into him. As soon as the door opened Harry was flung to the floor. The door closed and was bolted shut behind him.

Slouched upon the floor Harry listened incoherently to Vernon stomp upstairs muttering something about an ungrateful boy and lesson. Only when the house was completely still did the tears run down Harry's cheeks. His body shook and he tipped his head back in grief. It was not in Harry's kind soul to hate but he couldn't help questioning his lot in life.

_Why? Why did you have to die and leave me with them? _

Once Harry's grief was assuaged, he started to stiffly grope around in the dark. He banged his head painfully on a low step in his search. Afraid that he woke the Dursleys up, Harry froze in place holding his breath waiting for someone to bellow at him to be quite. Satisfied that everyone was still asleep Harry continued his search. He sighed when his hand found Vernon's discarded cigar box in its hiding place, under the bottom stair.

Clutching the box to his chest, Harry crawled back to his dingy baby crib mattress. Presence of mind kicked in and Harry painfully peeled off his wet clothes knowing he would likely get sick if he slept in the damp clothing. Too tired to put on anything else, Harry carefully laid down on his stomach to avoid aggravating the welts on his back and tender rear end. There was still a dull ache from his chest and the bruises there but it wasn't as sharp as the fresh strap marks lacing his backside. Once he was settled, Harry opened the box where he kept important things.

At the bottom of the cigar box was a piece of paper folded neatly in half. He opened it with a trembling hand. It was a report card with a perfect score in every class. His fingers caressed his proudest moment, feeling the smooth cellotape holding it together. Vernon had torn it to pieces and thrown it in the trash before turning his rage on Harry. Two days later, when Harry was physically able to get around again, he secretly dug every scrap out of the garbage and taped it together on a piece of blue construction paper.

After carefully folding the report card and putting it back, he pulled out a long piece of red and gold silk. It was part of the trimming from his baby blanket. As a toddler, Harry had carried it around with him. Dudley was jealous of anything Harry had, so he wanted it. There was a brief tug of war, which ripped the blanket. Harry was so mad he bit Dudley. The source of contention went into the rubbish bin and Harry received the first spanking he could remember. Somehow he managed to keep a piece of fabric from the blanket and hid it from Dudley. Now it was the only thing left from his life before the Dursleys. He twined the piece of silk around his fingers then pulled it free, enjoying the feel of it running smoothly between his fingers. Harry repeated this a few times before brushing it from cheek to cheek then wrapped it around his hand. He tucked his hand beneath his cheek and gave a sad sigh. The comforting touch of the remnants of his baby blanket against his cheek gradually lulled Harry asleep.

**o~o~O~o~o**

Lucius held out his crystal wine glass to the serving house-elf. He swirled the expensive Burgandy admiring the colour and giving it some air. Then he gently sipped the wine letting the flavour play with his taste buds. It was a calming routine for the aristocrat. The wine helped him relax and analyse an issue. The children's collectible cards had him ill at ease. Of all the money making schemes attached to Harry Potter's name, this was the one that troubled him. _There is another motive here. It is about more than just the money. No doubt the financial aspect is a part of it. There is a message here, in the card. _He thought as he read the back of Albus Dumbledore's card again. His finger tapped upon the text about the Philosopher's Stone.

An ornate wooden box appeared on Lucius' desk at the beckoning of his silent and wandless summoning. Lucius pulled out his wand and used a charm of privacy and obfuscation before carefully opening the box. A dark green obsidian amulet shaped in the form of a skull with a serpent protruding from the mouth. At its prime the amulet was a brighter green and the serpent almost seemed alive. Now it lay coldly. Lucius took another drink and considered the Dark Lord's mark before him.

It had taken all of his guile and skill of tongue to convince the Dark Lord that it was in his best interest to not mark Lucius Malfoy as a Death Eater. His father had been one of the first to pledge loyalty as a Knight of Walpurgis. It had taken a great deal of resources to gather the financial and political influence Lucius enjoyed. The discovery of the Dark Mark upon his arm would be the undoing of that investment. To keep his anonymity, Lord Voldemort had given him an amulet. It was used to summon Lucius. The truth of the matter was that Lucius would never consent to being branded like a common slave. In the end the gamble he had taken, placing his pride before his safety, had worked to his favour. When they were gathering suspects many had been convicted based upon that mark.

After several minutes of contemplation, Lucius lifted the amulet from the box. Nothing, Lucius felt nothing from the amulet. Not so much as a spark. The serpent did not writhe in his grasp. The skull did not glow. The dark omen was for all intent dormant, just as it had been for the last ten years. Lucius raised the glass to his lips letting the cool wine rest upon his tongue. _The amulet! It is not cold like the gemstone should be. It is a bit warmer than room temperature. _

Lucius put the amulet back in the box and warded it thoroughly before sending it to the chambers beneath the house containing the dark items he wished to remain concealed. He finished the wine and sat silently mulling things over.

His eye drifted over Albus's card again. A moment later he summoned Harry Potter's card as well. _The Philosopher's Stone and Harry Potter are the two things the Dark Lord would want the most. One is a means to return to power and the other one is credited with vanquishing him. It is an invitation. The fool is calling the lion home and plans on staking the lamb out for him._

_The house of Malfoy is at its peak. We've never had this amount of influence before. The Wizengamot listens to my council. The Prime Minister of Magic is in my pocket and I am a member of the board of governor's for Hogwarts. Everyone competes for my favour. The house of Black is either incarcerated or a wanted war criminal. Draco stands to inherit the title of Head of House unless Sirius Black is exonerated. The return of the Dark Lord would diminish the strength of the Malfoys. We will never be subservient to another. _

Lucius began to think of the Dark Lord's servants. Some of the most ferocious were locked away in Azkaban. The ones rotting away in prison were Monsters, even by Lucius' standards. Bellatrix was by far the worst. She had once been as beautiful and intelligent as her sisters Andromeda and Narcissa. The three Black sisters had been highly sought after prizes. Bellatrix married into the house of Lestrange strengthening the alliance between the Blacks and Lestranges. Narcissa married into the upcoming and wealthy house of Malfoy. While Andromeda disgraced herself and married a Muggle-born, resulting in her exile from the Black family.

It was rumoured that Bellatrix ruled the house of Lestrange. She was more intelligent than Rodolphus and a superior dueller. Once she had been inducted to the Death Eaters Bellatrix began to change. It was the Dark Lord's influence that twisted Bellatrix. She may have remained married to Rodolphus but it was the Dark Lord's bed that she kept warm. It was Bellatrix's zeal to please her master that drove her to madness.

Sirius Black was convicted of murdering Peter Pettigrew and a bunch of worthless Muggles. His infamy came from his betrayal of the Potters. Sirius had been the acknowledged secret keeper of the Fidelius charm protecting the Potters. He had supposedly divulged this information to the Dark Lord sealing their doom. The tragedy is that Lucius knew that Sirius was not a Death Eater and had never met with him, to Lucius' knowledge. There was no doubt about Peter's allegiance. He had attended the ritual that bound Peter Pettigrew to the Dark Lord. Sirius had been too distraught to mount a credible defence and no one had stood up for him. They carted him off to Azkaban without a trial. He had promptly escaped within the week providing further evidence that he was a wizard of the darkest sort. Sirius was now a wanted war criminal. The Ministry of Magic was even offering a bounty for Sirius dead or alive. With no financial difference in his physical condition it was as good as a death warrant.

Lucius did not have anything against Sirius Black. However, Draco had become the heir to the house of Black. Andromeda had been disowned and only had a daughter. Bellatrix was imprisoned and had no children. Sirius was a war criminal. Lucius would be content with the death of Sirius. It would more than double the holdings of the Malfoy family, gain another vote in the Wizengamot and further their influence. Lucius had been tempted to offer a bounty of his own as further incentive to find him. Narcissa stayed his hand as she had once been fond of her cousin. Lucius had respected his wife's wish and agreed to neither help nor hinder Sirius Black.

_With his most loyal servants in Azkaban the Dark Lord would have to return in full strength to gather his forces. The most talented of his followers have found positions of power. Severus Snape has a full pardon and is the potions professor at Hogwarts. He is even the Head of Slytherin. Much more than a half-blood could have hoped to aspire to. He pretends to be Headmaster Dumbledore's lap dog keeping the house of the cunning in control. Severus has been very busy the last ten years making his own connections. Many owe him a favour for the passing grades of their children. You cannot enter the field of healing or Aurors without a NEWT level potions class with an exceeds expectations grade or better. Only the extremely diligent students could undermine Severus' control. Many of the Aurors appointed in the last five years have ties to Death Eaters._

_Mulciber is presently at large. He is the only other Death Eater to escape Azkaban. It was his talent with the Imperius curse that allowed him to escape. Mulciber was unmatched with the use of this curse. Not only could he exert long term control, Mulciber didn't require a wand or incantation. It was on the way to Azkaban that he controlled one of his guards and ordered him to kill the other two. The element of surprise was all it took for his escape. The guard he had controlled had been found later, dead by his own hand. It had lent credibility to the defence of the other Death Eaters when they claimed to have been under the Imperius curse. With a considerable amount of galleons greasing the right palms Avery, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott were able to avoid imprisonment. _

_Igor Karkaroff claimed diplomatic immunity and returned to his home country. He is now the Headmaster of the Durmstrang Institute. The Dark Arts are openly taught at the school. Draco was even sent an invitation to tour the school as an alternative to attending Hogwarts. I would not be surprised if he is marshalling his own forces. There is a void with the absence of the Dark Lord; a void that many would like to fill._

_The executioner for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures is Walden Macnair. In the seventies Macnair led safaris for Muggles and Dangerous Creatures. The Gryphon head mounted above the fireplace in my study came from such a hunt. With international laws protecting some of the beasts as endangered species he has had to cut back on the expeditions. He is also known to take the occasional assassination job on the side. The few who know that Macnair was a Death Eater are too frightened to say anything. _

_Avery and Nott have resumed their regular business practices and are doing quite well for themselves. If they were presented with a chance to prove themselves and gain while doing so they would be eager to help the Dark Lord return to power. _

_If I were to circumvent the revival of the Dark Lord, I would need to find all of the pieces on the board and the role they play. Albus Dumbledore is more likely a King than a pawn. Harry Potter is an unwitting pawn at this point. The best course of action will be to follow the money. I can make a polite inquiry about whom to contact if I wish to purchase the use of Harry Potter's name for an unspecified product. Perhaps even discover where all of the royalties are going. I do not remember a custody hearing for Harry. It would have been in the headlines if there was one. That means his care was uncontested by the Ministry. Most likely he went to an immediate family member. Harry is the last of the Potters. That leaves Lily's parents or some other Muggle relative, which explains Harry's disappearance. Very few of those in the Wizarding world would look for him in the Muggle world. I myself make as little contact with the filthy Muggles as possible. It will be necessary to find someone to track down Lily's relatives. Someone trustworthy and that can be discreet. Perhaps Narcissa can get Ted Tonks to do this. I would ask the man but he knows how I feel about him being a Muggle-born. It is why Andromeda and Narcissa do not invite us when they meet. _

* * *

><p><strong>Story Recommendation<strong>**: Vox Corporis by MissAnnThropic, story id 3186836. This is the best Harry and Hermoine romance I have read.**

**Thank you for reading the chapter. A great deal of time and effort has been committed to this story. The biggest reward you can give is a review. All comments are welcome.**

**-Melverne**


	3. I Will Not Scream

**Disclaimer: I am borrowing from the creative mind of J.K. Rowling.**

**Rating: This story is M for a reason. There is crude content, foul language and violence in the story. If this offends you, don't read it.**

**Thank you to my beta Zarathustra46. If you have not read Vows, you should check it out. There are now three parts to the series. They are Vows, Duty and Honour. I have them listed as a favorite on my profile page and in my community, Melverne's Picks.**

**A/N: If you have read Hogwarts School of War Wizardry (a story I posted but removed), most of it has been incorporated into this story. For more details on my ideas about the Harry Potter universe see my profile page. I am always looking for a good Harry Potter story to read. PM me if you have a suggestion to add to my community, Melverne's Picks.**

* * *

><p><strong>Thicker Than Mud<strong>

**Chapter 3: I Will Not Scream**

**Time: Spring 1991**

**Place: Little Whinging, Surrey and The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole**

The next morning, Petunia beat on the cupboard door three times in quick succession punctuating her command as she shouted, "Get up. Get up. Get up."

Startled awake, Harry groaned and cautiously stretched, giving his body a chance to alert him to anything particularly painful. Carefully rolling onto his back, Harry sat up and was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn't too bad. He put the red and gold piece of silk back in the cigar box and tucked it under the lowest step, in the furthest corner from the door, hiding it from the Dursleys. They never poked around in here that Harry knew of but there was always a first time for everything. The sharp irritable steps of Petunia coming back launched Harry into a frenzied rush. He swiftly pulled on his clean shirt and smoothed it down just as the door flew open.

Petunia took a step back as the smell hit her. She looked Harry over in disgust. "You're too filthy to stomach being around. Go get cleaned up and be quick about it. Vernon and Dudley will want their breakfast when they get up."

"Yes, Ma'am, thank you." Harry replied. He grabbed his shoes, socks and trousers then hurried down the hall. The enormous shirt almost hung down to his knees covering the important things as he scurried to the washroom that he was allowed to use. They never let Harry use any other facility in the house. In fact, he was restricted to the first floor unless he had been directed to clean upstairs.

Dudley would periodically lock the door to the toilet and shut it from the outside. This forced Harry to either use the bucket in his cupboard, or go outside behind the house until Vernon unlocked the door again. When Harry asked for the door to get unlocked he always received a cuff behind the ear for his stupidity. Sometimes Vernon would let it go for days to teach Harry a lesson. Only once, did Harry try to explain that Dudley had locked the door shut. That was all it took for him to never mention that again.

The bathroom door was left half-way ajar. Harry knew closed doors were not permitted unless the Dursleys were locking him in the cupboard. Petunia and Vernon had Harry under constant watch waiting for any act of disobedience or disturbance. A disturbance was classified as any unusual event involving Harry or occurring in his vicinity.

Harry peeked out the door and listened to see if any of the Dursleys were lurking before stripping down and taking a shower. The cool water on his back stung but Harry let it run over the welts as long as he dared. Using too much water risked the wrath of Petunia but it was the best way to clean any wounds left over from Vernon's strapping. After suffering through an infection once, Harry had learned to clean himself, and any wounds, as thoroughly and as frequently as he could. He watched the water go down the drain making sure the water was clean. If it was red hued, he was probably bleeding somewhere and would need to be careful. Petunia got awful mad when he stained anything by getting blood on it.

Satisfied that he wasn't bleeding anywhere, Harry stepped out of the shower. He carefully patted himself dry and checked the hall for any of the Dursleys again. He quickly rifled through the medicine cabinet taking a few sticking plasters and some bandages. Not enough that they would notice, but a few for when he would need them. After tucking them in his right trainer, Harry pulled on his shirt and stood by the door listening for Petunia. The too-large clothes concealed the various bruises, welts and scars littering Harry's body. After he was finished dressing, he ran a hand through his hair. Harry didn't have a comb or tooth brush. He rinsed his mouth out, scrubbed his teeth with a finger and smiled at his reflection. Seeing his black hair standing up dredged up a memory of one of the disturbances the Dursleys were always on guard for.

**o~o~O~o~o**

_Harry was sitting in the tailor fashion, with his legs crossed in the hall outside his cupboard with a school book open in his lap. He had just finished reading the chapter and was looking through his notes when Dudley came down stairs._

"_Hi, Harry," Dudley greeted as he chomped noisily on some bubble gum._

_Harry nervously looked around before hesitantly answering, "Hi, Dudley." He avoided Dudley as much as possible since any encounter seemed to end poorly for Harry._

_Dudley blew a big purple bubble. It was a nice sized bubble and burst spectacularly leaving bits of gum around Dudley's mouth. Dudley pulled the bubble gum out of his mouth, and rolled it around his chubby cheeks gathering the sticky mess. "Want a piece?" Dudley asked holding out the pack of gum._

_Harry was enticed by the sugary grape smell of the bubble gum and eyed the recently opened pack of gum in Dudley's hand suspiciously. Dudley had never offered to share anything with him before. _

_Dudley waved the package in Harry's face. "It's good stuff. You'll like it."_

_Harry looked Dudley in the eye for a hint of deceit. The temptation of a piece of gum overcame Harry's doubt. Following the protocol established by the Dursleys Harry asked very politely. "Yes, please."_

_Dudley took a step closer holding the gum out to Harry. When Harry reached for the pack, Dudley pulled it away and rubbed his old gum on top of Harry's head. "There you go," he chuckled and walked away._

_Harry tried pulling it out of his hair with no luck. Then stuck his head under a water faucet and tried to wash it out, but that just spread it in his hair. There was no other choice Harry had to ask Petunia for help._

_He walked into the living room and saw Dudley talking to Petunia. "Mum have you seen my gum?" Harry tried to flee the room but the sudden motion caught Petunia's eye._

"_Stop right there," Petunia shrilly commanded. She angrily crossed the room and saw the evidence of the missing candy in Harry's hair. Petunia spun Harry around and smacked his arse with the closest object, Dudley's math book. She warmed his hide until Harry squirmed in discomfort and then a couple more times to prove her point. "I will not tolerate thievery in my house!"_

_His eyes might have been a little moist but not one tear was shed by Harry. He took the thrashing and did not move an inch until the pain became unbearable. Throughout it all, Harry steadily held Dudley's gaze. Harry let Petunia catch her breath and calm down a little before he asked as politely as he could under duress. "Will you help me get it out, please?"_

_A glint of malice sparkled in Petunia's green eyes. "Get it out? Oh yes, I will help you get it out." The tone of voice went from angry to silky and spiteful. It gave Harry a chill. Petunia grabbed him by the upper arm digging her nails through Harry's thin shirt and into the soft flesh under his arm as she dragged him behind her. In the kitchen, Petunia gave Harry a rough shake and pointed to a chair. "Sit." _

_Little scarlet half moons appeared under Harry's arm when she released him from where here neatly manicured nails had pierced his skin. Her heels clacked angrily on the tile floor as she gathered a few things. The yellow rubber gloves snapped into place and Petunia armed her self with a pair of scissors. In a fit of anger she yanked Harry's hair and chopped it away in chunks. "I am sick of this unruly mess. I should have done this years ago." _

_Harry grunted once or twice but never told Petunia she was being too rough. He watched his hair drop to the floor around him. The loose hair tickled his nose and back. Harry blew some of the hair from his face and twitched his shoulders to relieve the itch. Petunia smacked the back of Harry's head and commanded, "Hold still." A trickle of blood ran down Harry's temple from where the scissors had nicked him._

_Dudley had watched the whole event with fascination. As Petunia was winding down Dudley ran from the room and returned in time with a camera to take pictures. Harry sat in the middle of the kitchen with hair all around him. There were a few patches of hair here and there on his head. Harry now looked like a big eyed buzzard instead of a startled owl. Dudley laughed boisterously and started taking pictures, "Smile, Harry. Just wait until I show these out at school." _

_Harry watched in horror as Dudley pranced around him getting pictures from all angles. The instant Polaroid camera spewed pictures onto the floor. He raised a hand to his head feeling the bald spots and remaining tufts of hair. Realizing how terrible he must look, Harry turned a bright red. The tips of his ears felt like they were on fire. The camera flashed over and over like a strobe light. Dudley chortled in glee. Harry used one hand to cover his face in embarrassment and raised the other in front of the camera lens, "Stop it!" _

_There was another flash before the camera turned malleable in Dudley's hands. Dudley stared at the camera as it lost shape and began to drip between his fingers. "Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum," Dudley wailed._

_Harry was dumfounded and rooted to the spot. He watched the camera change into a gooey mess in Dudley's hands and couldn't tear his gaze away as it began to ooze from Dudley's hands to the floor. _

_WHACK! Harry staggered a few steps. WHACK! The second hit landed across his shoulders knocking him over. _

"_You wicked, wicked boy," Petunia raged shaking the broom in her hands furiously. _

_Petunia struck Harry twice more. Harry was on the floor and crawling away as Petunia beat at him relentlessly. He finally found shelter under the kitchen table. Petunia kicked the table in anger, "Get to your room!" Harry peered out from under the table in fright. "Now!" The sheer outrage chased Harry out from under the table. Harry ran hunched over, covering his head, to the cupboard under the stairs. The door was quickly bolted shut behind him. _

_When Vernon came home and let Harry out there was a stunned silence. Harry had emerged with a full head of hair. Petunia's cheeks flushed and her breath quickened as she struggled for air. Dudley stared at Harry flabbergasted, the picture of a nearly bald Harry slipped from his numb fingers. Vernon held his wife up supporting her. All three Dursleys stared at Harry like he was some sort of monster. Petunia raised a hand to point at Harry, "His h-h-hair. It was gone." _

_Vernon helped Petunia to the couch with Dudley and Harry following mutely behind. Once Petunia was comfortable Vernon arose to his full height and leered menacingly over Harry. His meaty paw grabbed Harry by the shoulder. Harry felt his collar bone bend painfully beneath Vernon's steel grip. "Let's have a talk," Vernon whispered in a low menacing voice._

_"I didn't do anything. Honest! I don't understand what happened. Please don't." Harry begged as he was dragged out of the living room._

**o~o~O~o~o**

A chill from the memory made Harry shiver. He heard the upstairs shower turn on and knew there was not much time left to make breakfast. Petunia was at the table with the morning paper sipping at a cup of coffee. "Top me off."

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry replied dutifully and fetched the coffee pot.

Harry pulled off his t-shirt, folded it up neatly and set it on the counter by the back door. Petunia sniffed in disdain but did not object. Harry positively swam in his clothes, which made doing some of his chores very difficult or just plain dangerous. The only time Petunia had ever acted on Harry's behalf, was to knock him to the floor and dump a pitcher of water on him when his shirt had caught on fire. Even when he stood on a stool he was too close to the range when he leaned over the stove. His shirt tail had been lit while cooking dinner. Of course he was later punished for being careless and ruining a shirt. It could have been much worse for Harry, if she had done nothing to help him.

It was the only time Vernon and Petunia tolerated Harry running around half starkers, claiming they were worried the neighbours would think he was a savage little brat. But Harry knew it was more than that. There was a reason Dudley's hand-me-downs were tossed when they were finally just extra big instead of ridiculously large. Harry had enough time in the bathroom to see the scars on his body. He even witnessed the reactions of other kids and an adult when they saw the marks.

Harry had to go far enough away from home to get out his school district to avoid his classmates. They would have never agreed to let him play with them. He had been so happy to be invited to play football at the park. Unfortunately, he was placed on the team that got skins. When Harry took off his shirt the other kids started to gather around to look at his scars. An adult came over to see what was going on. The gasp and look of shock on her face said it all. Afraid of the questions that would be asked, Harry quickly pulled on his shirt and ran all the way back to the Dursleys'. He never returned to that park again.

He knew deep down inside it was wrong for them to treat him this way. Harry was just afraid of the alternative. At a very early age Vernon and Petunia made it clear that Harry was not wanted and his stay was strictly probationary. Vernon had sat him down to watch a documentary on a boys' home for orphans. Harry may not talk to many people but he was very observant of expressions and physical signals. The boys in the documentary had hollow eyes and gaunt expressions on their faces. Their innocence was lost and they carried on in an often violent parody of life.

The documentary had spurred a series of nightmares that had lasted for weeks after watching the show. A brown haired boy in a uniform haunted him. His hollow eyes were void of emotion. The orphan boy had done horrible things in Harry's dreams. Harry had lived in constant fear of being sent or taken away from the Dursley's. The orphaned boy terrified Harry and he desperately did not want to meet him.

**o~o~O~o~o**

"_How much further is it?" A golden locked girl asked as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. _

"_We are just about there Rebecca."_

"_What did you want to show me?"_

"_I told you. It's a surprise."_

"_I hope I like it."_

_The black haired boy smiled handsomely in reply. _

_After two more inquiries about how much further they had to go the two finally arrived. "Here it is." The boy said proudly._

"_I don't see anything," she answered disappointedly. It was a beautiful view of the ocean but she didn't see anything else of interest._

"_It's in here." The boy replied gesturing to a cave._

_The girl peered carefully inside the dark dank entry and shuddered. "I'm not going in there."_

"_It's just inside. You'll really like it."_

_Frustrated the girl shot back, "I better or I won't let you play with this." She held up her hand and let the yo-yo roll off her finger tips. It unwound to the point of nearly touching the group before a sharp tug sent it rolling back up the string to her waiting hand._

_The boy watched the yo-yo greedily before nodding his head. "Trust me. There is nothing else like it." _

_He led the way into the cave, never slowing, even when it became to dark to see._

_The girl tripped again and nearly fell. "I can't see." The girl whinged._

_He grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him impatiently. "There; we're here."_

_Now that they were at the destination he dropped her hand in distaste. After jostling around on the ground a small blue flame flickered in the darkness. The light was reflected by the nearby water casting its blue glow across the stalactites hanging from the top of the cave. _

_The girl turned in place in wonder at the magnificent view. The crystals in the walls shimmered and danced with the blue flame lighting the cavern. A dark expanse of water sat calmly. The little bit of light reflected upon the water which was as smooth as glass. An island in the centre of the black abyss was just within sight. Unable to see what lied below the surface gave her a chill. She turned her gaze on the boy again who stood unimpressed watching her. His eyes would dart to the darkest corners from time to time watching, waiting. From the shadows she could hear a soft rustling like the whisper sandpaper on wood._

"_I told you that you would like it," he said then held out his hand._

_She passed over the yo-yo reluctantly. The boy toyed with it for several minutes trying to get it to spin up and down the string as the girl had so easily. He continued to fail in his effort and only stopped when the girl laughed at him. "That's enough, give it back."_

_He held it in his clutches. **It can't be that hard. She did it. **He thought to himself._

"_I'm ready to leave now. Give me my yo-yo."_

"_I'm not done with it," he said flatly._

_She marched over to him to grab it from his hands. He glared at her audacity then stepped back from her and hissed._

"_That's not going to stop me from taking that from you," she said angrily and started towards him again. After a single step she screamed and jumped back. "Something bit me."_

_The boy watched her dispassionately. _

_She turned to walk back, "I'm telling that you took my yo-yo."_

_He hissed again at her retreating back and began to play with the yo-yo again._

_Once again the girl screamed. "Hhhhhelp me. It's biting me." She squealed and tumbled to the ground. Her hands brushed frantically at her legs. "It's a snake. Get it off. Get it off me. Help!"_

_He moved closer to watch as the girl struggled with the three foot adder. The snake was coiled about the girl's ankle and was repeatedly biting her calves. When her hand brushed against the snake it struck and latched on. She screamed again and shook her hand but the snake held on, sinking its fangs deeper into the skin between the thumb and forefinger. The girl's struggles became less frantic as more and more venom was injected into her. She began to cry and begged in a broken voice. "Help me, please."_

_The boy watched her as she wept at his feet. He turned his attention back to the yo-yo as the adder slithered away. The yo-yo crept down the line and spun at the end. He gave a sharp precise tug and watched it crawl back to his hand. "See, anyone can do this. I knew it would be easy."_

_The girl had begun to convulse on the ground and offered no opinion. He stuck the yo-yo in his pocket and gestured at the blue flame which winked out. Rebecca whimpered in the dark as the echo of footsteps faded away._

**o~o~O~o~o**

Over the years Harry had become an excellent cook. He definitely excelled at fixing breakfast. It was calming to Harry and he had become very crafty at trimming portions in order to sneak bites. Short of catching Harry with a hand in his mouth, it could never be proven.

After the Dursleys were served and waited on by Harry, he pulled his shirt back on. Petunia might allow him to take it off for indoor chores but sitting down at the table bare chested was unacceptable. Once he was appropriately dressed and the Dursleys had their second serving of food. Harry tentatively put a few things on his plate. When no one murmured a complaint he began to nibble at the meagre portion.

"The school called yesterday," Petunia announced in a superior voice.

Vernon grumbled discontentedly and lowered his paper to glare at Harry. Already assuming it was bad news about the abomination sitting at his table.

Harry scooped up a whole fried egg and quickly stuffed it in his mouth. The yolk broke and trickled down his throat almost choking him. He took a drink of water and forced the egg down. He pushed the rest of the toast in his mouth making his cheeks poke out as he chewed as fast as possible. Harry ate as much as he could before it was taken from him. If things went badly, he knew this would probably be his only meal for the weekend.

"Oh, really? What did they want," Vernon asked as he watched Harry gobble down his food. It was a sure sign that he was guilty of something.

"Evidently, Harry has poor hygiene. His smell is quite atrocious. The nurse has requested that we make sure he continues to bathe on regular basis. You smelled him last night. It was even worse this morning when I let him out."

Dudley snickered behind his napkin and added, "Nobody wants to sit beside Stinky Potter at lunch because it makes us sick."

Now that his plate was empty Harry found his voice and volunteered his opinion. "If I could take a shower at home a little more often and had one or two more sets of clothes, I don't think it would be a problem anymore."

"Are you saying that we do not provide for you?" Vernon asked in low deadly voice.

"No sir, absolutely not. I just think that… I think that I need to shower more often. It's the chores and things. I sometimes sweat a lot and only have two sets of clothes. Sometimes they just start to smell."

Petunia and Vernon looked sceptical at Harry's proposition.

"It wouldn't need to be anything new, sir," Harry tried to reassure Vernon.

Vernon gruffly replied, "Bloody well right it won't be something new. Dudley's old things are too good for the likes of you."

Harry nodded in agreement. "And I could shower a couple of times during the week."

Their expressions were hardening into a firm no when Harry added more. "Piers probably already heard about it anyway. I hope he doesn't say anything to his Mum."

Petunia's expression suddenly changed. "We can't have our friends and neighbours going around saying that we have a filthy boy in the house. It just isn't proper, Vernon. It is only one more set of clothes and he can take cold showers so we aren't left without hot water."

Vernon reluctantly nodded. He just hated to give anything to Harry above the bare minimum for survival. It was enough that Vernon tolerated the boy's presence in their home. If it weren't for the sizable stipend they received for his care Vernon would have tossed Harry out long ago.

Late Sunday morning found Harry working his way across the kitchen floor on hands and knees. His aching arms moved in broad circular motions as Harry expertly applied the wax. Harry felt his toes touch the back door when he scooted back. In an attempt to keep his freshly laundered clothes clean, Harry had removed his shirt, shoes and socks. He had also rolled up the cuffs of his trousers over his knees to keep them out of the mop water. Petunia was too busy gussying up for her party to object. He was never allowed to take his shirt off in the yard when he worked for obvious reasons. It wouldn't do to let the neighbours know how the Dursleys kept their delinquent nephew in line.

A nervous glance at the clock on the stove showed it was five minutes till four. Despite all the chores assigned this weekend, Harry was on time. Sweat ran down Harry's bare back when he gingerly sat back on his heels and sighed in relief. He wiped a grimy arm across his brow as he admired the shining kitchen floor. There would be no praises or even a thank you from the Dursleys but Harry knew he had done a really good job. Petunia's bridge club would be very impressed. Maybe if everything was perfect and the party was a big success, Harry might be given some of the leftovers. A little drool escaped Harry's mouth at the thought of the wonderful food Petunia prepared for special occasions.

A moment later, Harry's reprieve was interrupted. Harry watched in horror as the mop bucket spun across the floor slopping dirty water everywhere. It ricocheted off the island counter and into the stove before dumping the rest of the dingy water. "No, no, no," Harry whispered in dismay.

The mop crashed to the floor as Dudley pushed his way through the rest of the temporary barricade. "Pick up after yourself, you worthless git," Dudley sneered.

_You stupid mammoth! I put it there to keep everyone out of the kitchen. _Harry wanted to scream. Instead, Harry calmed himself and looked at Dudley devoid of emotion. He surveyed the damage and realized it could not be fixed in time for Petunia's critical inspection. His brief hope for a special treat was replaced with the expectation of another missed meal. The thought of being locked away in his cupboard to starve the rest of the day with the delicious smells permeating through the house almost made him weep right then and it would have, if it had ever done him any good.

Dudley watched Harry for a reaction as he squeaked over to the centre island counter. He gave each step a small deliberate twist making sure the once perfectly polished floor was thoroughly smudged. Every step was a painful blow to Harry but he absolutely refused to let Dudley have the satisfaction of knowing it. Dudley squeezed his meaty hand into the cookie jar. Most of the treats were crushed when he pulled his hand out, leaving a trail of crumbs. Dudley turned to face Harry with a sadistic gleam in his eye and toyed with a biscuit before shoving it in his mouth. Harry's stomach betrayed him and gave a loud rumble. Crumbs burst from Dudley's mouth as he laughed. He shook his pumpkin head in mirth and stuffed another cookie in his mouth. Harry's anatomy betrayed him a second time as his face flushed with embarrassment. Dudley was still chuckling when he dumped the crumbs and broken cookies into the garbage disposal unit. He dusted his hands off over the nice clean floor on his way to the refrigerator. Stepping in a puddle Dudley slipped and fell on his big bum. Harry lost control and started to laugh.

"Mummy," Dudley wailed.

He couldn't help it but this just made Harry laugh even harder. _You big baby. A little tumble like that won't even leave a bruise. I was only five when you pushed me down the stairs for following you to the second floor, _Harry thought to himself. He wouldn't dare to even whisper this.

Harry just about wet himself when Petunia ran into the kitchen, tripped over the mop and fell on Dudley. The laugh died on Harry's lips and his bowels froze when Petunia locked eyes with him. What little strength his weary, overworked body had left drained from Harry in that moment, leaving him paralyzed.

Vernon stormed into the kitchen and promptly slipped, barely keeping his feet beneath him. It took one second for him to take it all in and reach a severe conclusion. "You ungrateful, careless, urchin!"

Harry helplessly watched Vernon's enormous girth thunder towards him. He involuntarily cried out in pain when Vernon jerked him off the floor by his shoulders. His feet dangled beneath him and spittle sprayed Harry's pale face as Vernon roared, "How dare you try to murder my family beneath our own roof."

Harry's head snapped back and forth when Vernon viscously shook him. Suddenly, Harry was dropped to his feet and had to place a hand on Vernon's ample gut to steady himself. Sheer terror washed over Harry, when he felt a tug at his belt. Harry grabbed Vernon's thick forearm as it worked to remove the belt. "Please don't, not again," Harry begged.

The beating from Friday night was too fresh. The welts on his back still ached. It wasn't often that Vernon used the belt so closely together. Harry's arthritic movements attracted too much attention and he couldn't get all of the chores done no matter what he was threatened with.

Vernon gave Harry a hard clout behind the ear flinging the glasses from his face. Bright lights exploded in front of Harry's eyes and he had to cling to Vernon to stay on his feet. Vernon irritably pushed Harry away, steadying him by the shoulder.

"Stand up," Vernon demanded. The last blow had knocked the resistance out of Harry and he swayed on his feet trying to obey. Vernon's fingers dug deeply into Harry's shoulder mercilessly as more force was exerted to keep him upright. Harry's pants started to loosen around his waist as the belt snaked out of the loops. When the belt was freed, Harry's hand-me-down pants dropped around his ankles leaving him completely exposed: Dudley snickered.

Harry glared at Dudley fighting to keep any portion of his dignity. _I will not cry, _Harry vowed to himself. Harry held onto Vernon's arm preparing for the impending blows. The belt swung back and forth in front of Harry with the buckle at the end. Harry gulped in despair and amended his vow. _I will not scream._

CRACK! The first blow of the belt hit Harry hard enough to make him stagger. A moment later the sting registered and Harry hissed vehemently between his teeth. The third lash put Harry on his knees. He bit his tongue in a desperate attempt to keep from screaming on the fifth strike. Tears were now freely running down his cheeks. Blood washed to the back of Harry's mouth and trickled down his throat. It had a thick coppery taste. Vernon had to hold Harry up by his elbow to finish the sixth administration of the belt. It was the seventh hit that broke Harry's resolve. He hated himself for it but on the seventh lash the sharp corner of the buckle had pierced Harry's right buttock embedding in his flesh. When Vernon ripped the belt loose, Harry gave a scream that raised the hair on the back of the Dursleys' necks and made the neighbourhood dogs start barking.

When Harry screamed Dudley smiled perversely. It was a sadistic smile of satisfaction from seeing Harry's spirit broke with his own belt. There was very little that he could do to get such a rise out of Harry anymore. No matter what he did Harry would not cry. It infuriated Dudley that Harry did not bow and scrap the ground before him. Harry was terrified of Vernon though. He seemed to lose control and would quiver in fear before the man. He even begged. Despite the antics Harry went through with Vernon, it was very rare for Harry to shed a single tear.

Petunia reached out to her husband halting him from doling out any further punishment, "Vernon the neighbours might have heard."

Vernon huffed in response but stopped the brutal thrashing. He surveyed Harry's naked body below him. Harry was on a single hand and knees, his torso twisted up towards Vernon, since he still held Harry by the boy's right elbow. Harry's lone arm quivered from the effort of keeping himself up. A fresh set of crimson welts were rising over the ones from Friday. There were a few bloody nicks from the belt buckle and blood was running profusely from the last blow to Harry's arse. Vernon licked his lips, "That'll teach you to mind your murderous ways."

Vernon dragged Harry unceremoniously from the kitchen. His bare body squeaked on the floor smearing blood as he went. Vernon huffed at the mess knowing it would be useless to demand the boy to clean it up. He grabbed Harry by an arm and a leg. Lifting him from the floor, Vernon heaved Harry into the cupboard. A minute later the rest of his clothes were thrown in after him.

"Not a word, boy. Petunia's guests are coming and you better not make a single sound," Vernon threatened. Harry lay in heap upon the floor just as Vernon had thrown him. Not a sound came from the beaten boy as Vernon locked the door. _Looks like Petunia will need to ring the school and tell them the freak is sick. He'll be worthless for the next few days. _

Harry vaguely heard Vernon through the intense agony that racked his body. He was grateful to be in the solitude of his room. It didn't matter that he had been tossed in like old luggage. Harry was certain he could not have made it on his own. Even now he was still on the floor where he had landed after Vernon chucked him in the cupboard. He lacked the strength to crawl onto his thin mattress. Harry reached out for his box of treasures as he was in dire need of comforting. When he discovered it was out of reach, Harry silently wept for a moment. He reached out again in vain stretching his fingers hungrily for the box and suddenly found it beneath his hand. His breath quivered as Harry exhaled in relief.

Flipping open the lid, Harry's hands eagerly sought out his prized possessions. He pressed the red and gold piece of silk to his eyes trying to stem the flow of tears. His chest ached from the stifled sobs Harry didn't dare let loose. Gradually, Harry calmed down. Lying on the cold stone floor, Harry listened to his heart beat. Physically exhausted and emotionally rung out Harry took a deep breath and drifted off to sleep.

**o~o~O~o~o**

Ron rolled up his Chudley Cannons poster before packing it away into his school trunk. It was the only brand new thing he owned. Charlie had owl ordered it for him as an off-to-Hogwarts gift.

_I wish it were a new wand instead of a Quidditch poster, no matter how amazing the team is. Charlie's old wand just isn't doing a thing for me. Fred and George were able to get a decent match out of the family wands. This was the only one that didn't actively fight my aura. Percy was a real peach letting me know that it will make practical applications in class more difficult for me._ _Mum and Dad are doing their best for us and I know things are tight with four kids in school but it would be nice to have a few things of just my own. Hand me down clothes top to bottom. I even have twins' old under pants. I know some ponce is going to take the mickey out of me. _

_Bill and Percy are so effing smart they could stick it back in their pompous faces. _

"I'm still a Prefect and top of my year, second hand wand and all. What's your excuse for doing so poorly?" Ron imperiously said to himself in his best imitation of Percy as he peered haughtily down his nose at his imaginary opponent.

Ron switched to a much deeper pitch and emulated Charlie's voice and confident stance. "Yeah, well I still do alright for myself. Did you want to make something of it?"

A dual chuckle sounded from the door as the twins walked in. "That's a fair imitation of dear ol' Chuck."

"My personal fav was Perfect Percy. Spot on I tell you. Spot on."

Ron flushed bright red at getting caught mimicking his brothers. _That's what I get for being such an arse. My brothers are getting along fine with what they are given why I should I be any different._

He picked up Scabbers, holding him up like a shield, and gave a weak smile. "Don't rat me out," Ron said in a lame attempt to avoid any trouble.

"Don't worry ickle Ronniekins."

"We've got your back."

"Wouldn't dare cross you."

"You might run home to Dad."

"Or Mum."

A feeling of dread filled Ron and he sat down heavily on his bed. "Oh shite." _Dad asked them to lay off of me at school._

The twins loomed menacingly over their little brother. Ron shrunk away from his brothers fearing the worst when they busted out laughing.

"We just wanted to tell you not to sweat it."

"We won't give you a harder time than anyone else."

"Nor will we let anyone else either."

"Best thing to do is keep the chin up and laugh with them."

"When everyone sees you're a good sport about it, they'll back off."

"I hate to say it."

"Right about that."

"Percy has got your back too."

"He's done us a good turn, the last two years."

"Wouldn't have passed some of the classes without his help."

"And we'll steer clear of him with our pranks."

"Don't want to give the Weasleys a bad name."

"Any Weasley."

"Really?" Ron asked.

The twins nodded in unison. "We've got a way better locking charm than Dad's to show you. He's pants at protection charms. Bill knows loads more than him."

"Had to keep the competition out of our stuff, so we owled Bill."

"Yes we did."

"This won't keep us out of your stuff though."

"Seeing as we're the ones who're showing you how to do it."

"I'll do it first and then you can give it a go."

"It's still summer. What about the underage magic use?" Ron asked holding the twins up for a second.

"First, we're on Weasley land."

"Tracking magic use through the wards would be near impossible."

"But just in case."

"We nicked Mum's wand."

Ron laughed at that and moved over to rub elbows with his brothers so he could learn the locking charm. He was relieved when the incantation wasn't a dirty limerick or funny rhyme.

* * *

><p><strong>Story Recommendation<strong>**: Growing Up Black by Elvendork Nigellus, story id 6518287. The best thing about this story is the Black family members. You get to see how they have earned their reputation as Dark magic users. No, this is not a Dark Harry story either. **

Thank you for reading the chapter. A great deal of time and effort has been committed to this story. The biggest reward you can give is a review. All comments are welcome.

**-Melverne**


	4. Dudder's Special Day

**Disclaimer: I am borrowing from the creative mind of J.K. Rowling.**

**Rating: Rating: This story is M for a reason. There is crude content, foul language and violence in the story. If this offends you, don't read it.**

**Thank you to my beta Zarathustra46. If you have not read Vows, you should check it out. There are now three parts to the series. They are Vows, Duty and Honour. I have them listed as a favourite on my profile page and in my community, Melverne's Picks.**

**A/N: If you have read Hogwarts School of War Wizardry (a story I posted but removed), most of it is incorporated into this story. For more details on my ideas about the Harry Potter universe see my profile page. I am always looking for a good Harry Potter story to read. PM me if you have a suggestion to add to my community, Melverne's Picks.**

**Thicker Than Mud**

**Chapter 4: Dudder's Special Day**

**Time: Summer 1991**

**Place: Little Whinging, Surrey **

* * *

><p>Harry was up bright and early Saturday morning on July twenty-third. He could hardly wait to get the day started. Normally he would have enjoyed the peace and quiet of the weekend mornings when Vernon slept in until eight or nine. Harry could tackle the chores at his own pace without fear of harassment from the boisterous man. However, today was Dudley's special day!<p>

Petunia was startled to find Harry fully dressed and ready to go. When she opened his cupboard, Harry bounced out the door. He happily bopped and shimmied down the hall, humming a snappy little tune on his way to retrieve the paper from the front stoop. A bewildered Petunia was left in his wake.

Their paths crossed again in the kitchen. Harry sat the paper next to Petunia's right elbow at the kitchen table then took off his shirt. Petunia clucked her tongue disapprovingly at him but said nothing. She wasn't going to get the boy anything that fit so she suffered him working in the kitchen shirtless.

Noticing Petunia's haughty look of disdain Harry thought to himself. _I've been lit on fire once while tending the stove. The only fire getting put out today is going to be the candles on Dudley's cake. _

He turned his back to Petunia and started the morning brew. He carefully set out the kitchen utensils and gathered the food supplies necessary for Dudley's bountiful breakfast feast. Harry looked down at his empty stomach when it rumbled. After giving his belly a comforting pat Harry tightened his belt. Standing on the tips of his toes Harry leaned over the sink, cupped a hand beneath the tap and took a few small sips. He knew from experience that drinking too much too fast when he was so hungry would only upset his stomach further. He turned back to his chores with happy thoughts. Nothing could ruin this day for Harry.

Petunia opened the morning paper eyeing Harry suspiciously. She had been a little disgruntled to find Harry dressed and ready to come out of the cupboard earlier this morning. It had interrupted her daily routine of startling Harry out of a sound sleep or catching him in various states of dress and embarrassing him. The irksome boy was still humming when he sat a steaming cup of coffee down next to her with the cream and sugar. "Snitching food this morning?" she accused looking over the containers of food to see if any seals were broken.

"No ma'am, just getting everything ready for breakfast." Harry politely defended.

"Hmpf. Well, what are you waiting for? Vernon and Dudley will be hungry when they come downstairs. Don't keep us waiting."

As if on cue, a sound like a herd of elephants thundered across the floor above their heads. "Dad! Get up. It's my birthday," Dudley trumpeted.

A few minutes later Harry heard Vernon and Dudley coming downstairs, not wanting to be ridiculed Harry was quick to pull his shirt back on as soon as the buffet of food was set out. Dudley didn't like to take off his shirt for an entirely different reason than Harry. One of the boys at school had jested about Dudley's rack. Dudley had taken the other boy to task and given him a good pasting. The black eye and fat lip the other boy sported ended that joke for good. When the school called about it, Petunia said Dudley was the victim of cruel hurtful words and was defending himself. To make Dudley feel better, Vernon had taken to calling Harry a scrawny little pipsqueak whenever he saw the boy without a shirt on.

Harry had deliberately put out overly generous portions of every one of Dudley's favourites. The Dursleys wouldn't contest such a wanton display of gluttony in celebration of their baby boy and this way there would definitely be enough for everyone, even Harry. After the Dursleys were served and waited on by Harry, he took a chance and sat down with a plate of his own. Vernon crinkled the paper and scowled. Petunia left the room but didn't say anything. Dudley was about to throw a fit when Petunia started carrying in boxes of wrapped gifts. With Dudley distracted, Harry scrambled to scoop up anything within reach and started to eat.

There was a brief tantrum from Dudley over how many birthday gifts he received. Harry picked his plate up off the table for fear of losing it. Dudley had kicked the table over before. Vernon smoothed it over and calmed the spoiled prat down by promising him even more gifts. This was a fine example of why Harry thought he was Dudley's whipping boy. Dudley's outrageously poor behaviour was always overlooked and all too frequently rewarded, while Harry was often blamed and punished for everything whether it was his fault or not.

Harry spent the rest of his morning cleaning up the kitchen until Piers arrived. Then there was a rousing game of Harry Hunting. With only two hunters, and a full stomach for once, Harry had no problem avoiding them. When they climbed into the family sedan Harry was pinned between Dudley and Piers who pummelled him non-stop. Harry hunched over in his seat and locked his arms beneath his knees. No matter how hard the other two boys tried, they couldn't pry Harry out of the foetal position. It was the best protection for the more vulnerable aspects of his anatomy. He took the pokes, prods and punches without complaint until they let him out of the car in front of the Library.

Dudley kicked Harry in the bum on the way out, ejecting him from the car. Harry stumbled a few steps then tripped on the curb and did a face plant on the side walk. The door slammed shut cutting off the peals of laughter as the Dursleys' car sped away. Harry rolled over and sat on his bum watching the tail lights flash red briefly at the stop sign before tearing off.

Harry gave a depressed sigh. There was something about being left behind that bothered Harry. He knew the Dursleys couldn't get away from him fast enough, and sadly Harry felt the same way about them. It didn't bother him anymore to be ignored or talked about as if he weren't there. Between the kids at school and the Dursleys, there wasn't much left to be said that could bother Harry. Yet as Harry watched the car zoom away he found himself hoping for a simple good-bye or a farewell wave, anything which acknowledged Harry was being left.

Once the car was completely out of sight, Harry waved from his seat on the ground. Harry was genuinely happy. It was a treat to get to spend one whole day at the Library. A guilty feeling lurked because Mrs Figg broke her leg and couldn't babysit him while taking pain medications. When the Dursleys couldn't find anyone else to watch him, Harry had suggested they take him to the Library. The Dursleys jumped on the idea. It was a satisfying resolution for everyone, especially for Harry.

Harry got up and dusted himself off, ignoring the gawkers. It was second nature to avoid questions and pretend that nothing had happened. He hoped up on the retaining wall lining the stairs that lead up to the library. Once comfortably seated he began kicking his legs, bouncing his heels against the wall and watching the morning traffic. Even after getting kicked out of the car, this birthday was a far sight better than any celebration he could remember.

**o~o~O~o~o**

_When the doorbell rang Dudley rushed for the door. His feet hammered down the stairs followed by a moment of silence when he leapt the last few stairs then a tremendous thud when he landed. In his haste to get to the door first he shoved Harry face first into the wall. He was red in the face, huffing and puffing, when he yanked the door open to greet Aunt Marge._

_Harry cringed inwardly when the loathsome woman breached the entry. "Dudley,my sweet little neffy-poo." Marge squealed as she tweaked his cheek and pulled him in for a big hug._

_As Dudley stepped away from the hug he flashed a crisp twenty pound note to Harry. "Now put that away someplace safe. We don't want that to get stolen," Marge warned as she pointedly stared at Harry. _

_Vernon and Petunia joined them in the hall in time to add their accusing glares to Marge's. Harry stood straight with a defiant tilt to his chin._

"_He's a bad egg just like his mother." Marge said shaking her head. Ripper, Marge's pride stud bulldog, growled his agreement._

_Wary of the dog, Harry took a step back. He clenched his teeth and stilled his features letting the insults roll off him. Vernon had taught Harry restraint through bodily harm. As a result, there were very few things or people that could get a rise out of him. Marge was one of the few who could get under his skin. Being personally degraded was a daily event for Harry. It was the attacks on his parents that dug at him. The woman was all too happy to belittle Harry anyway she could think of and blame it on bad blood._

"_It's good to see you Marge. How is your gout?" Vernon said giving his sister a hug nearly stepping on Ripper in the process. The dog grumbled in discontent but budged over. _

"_Not too bad, nothing that a sip of brandy won't fix. I have a few gifts for the big boy's eighth birthday," Marge announced with a wink for Dudley._

_Dudley's greedy little eyes lit up in anticipation. She always lavished expensive gifts upon Dudley for his birthday and completely ignored the fact that Harry also had a birthday in the same month, nonetheless. The Dursleys never mentioned, let alone celebrated, the unwanted freak's birthday. Although Dudley was always good about reminding Harry about his birthday and the lack of gifts or the fact that no one cared._

"_I left the gifts in the car boot." Marge raised her walking stick at Harry and sharply jabbed him in the shoulder with it. "Go fetch them for me boy." _

_Harry grabbed the stick and gave it a tug. "Did you want me to take your cane too?" He asked innocently and tugged it again initiating a tug of war. Irritably, she jerked it out of his hand, stumbling back into Vernon. Before anyone could say anything Harry darted out the door to retrieve Dudley's gifts. _

_The Dursleys settled in the family room while Harry served them drinks and snacks between fetching Dudley's numerous gifts. Dudley gave plenty of ohs and ahs as Harry delivered the growing mound of gifts around him. He would inspect each gift as it arrived. "What do you think that is, Harry?" Dudley would ask in a gloating manner._

_Harry was tempted to 'accidentally' drop one of the gifts, but with his luck it would be something breakable. Vernon would take it out of his hide if anything was damaged. So Harry continued to slave away until Dudley sat upon the floor encircled by all of the gifts Aunt Marge bought him._

_In record time, Dudley shredded through the wrapping, tossing it everywhere, leaving a mess for Harry to pick up. One of the first gifts opened was a pair of red silky knee length shorts. Dudley tossed this aside unhappily. A nice new pair of boxing shoes followed along with a jump rope and speed bag. Dudley stopped to admire one of the two pairs of boxing gloves. He inserted a hand in one of the gloves then pounded it into the open palm of his hand while leering menacingly at Harry. Some miscellaneous pieces rounded out Dudley's gifts. There was a mouth piece, hand wrap, protective head gear, athletic supporter (which Harry had to suppress a groan of disgust) and a cup._

_Harry suspiciously eyed the second pair of boxing gloves. **Everything was given to Dudley but why does he need two pairs of gloves? It must be one for him and one for the dummy who wants to have a go at him. **_

_Vernon was by far more enthused than Dudley about the boxing equipment. He looked over each item and excitedly discussed them with Dudley. Vernon put the supporter and cup to the side out of sight after a whispered conversation with Dudley. Dudley turned a bright red and quickly went back to admiring the rest of his bounty._

_Marge smiled as she watched her brother and nephew lean in shoulder to shoulder looking over the gifts. Petunia, on the other hand, was sceptical about encouraging this new hobby. There was no doubt that Harry did not like it at all. There was a sinking feeling in Harry's gut as he picked up the wrapping paper. **Where's the punching bag?**_

"_Can I try some of this out Dad?" Dudley asked in a high pitched whinge. _

_Now, Harry was definitely feeling alarmed. _

"_Absolutely, let's just get your hands wrapped and the gloves on first."_

"_Take it outside. These are not inside toys." Petunia commanded. In a side conversation she softly asked Marge, "Isn't Dudley too young for boxing? I don't want him to get hurt."_

"_Nonsense, Vernon started at the same age. The bantam division is for eight to ten year old boys. They are further divided by weight. When they box in the right age group and weight division it is unlikely that anyone will get hurt."_

_Overhearing the last comment Harry started to panic. There was a good reason they played Harry Hunting instead of just Punching Harry. There was a big incentive for Harry to run and hide from Dudley's gang. If they caught Harry, he was often left black and blue for days._

_Dudley insisted on getting fully suited up and dashed off to change. Harry refilled drinks and swiftly finished picking up the family room. He attempted to disappear by taking out the garbage but Vernon stopped him. "Stick around boy. Dudley needs a sparing partner."_

_The husky boy came out swinging showing off his new attire. Aunt Marge beamed at the display. "That's my boy," she exclaimed as they headed outside._

_Vernon took the boys over to the driveway while Marge and Petunia seated themselves on the patio. "Dudley is going to clobber that little runt. In a club, Dudley would never face someone so much smaller than him. It'll be good to teach the boy his place and to help build Dudley's confidence."_

"_This square of cement is the ring. Stepping out of bounds is not allowed. This is your corner, Dudley and that is yours. You'll go three rounds, one minute per round and one minute of rest between. You get one point for each jab or punch that connects. If one of you gets knocked on your arse, it's considered a knock out. Go to your corners."_

_Once the boys had separated, Vernon followed Harry to his corner. As he laced Harry's hands in the gloves Vernon sternly warned in a quite voice. "If you hit Dudley you'll be right sorry. Are we clear?"_

"_Yes sir," Harry said bobbing his head. _

"_Right then. Go to the centre of the ring." Vernon said motioning both boys back to the centre again. "Touch your gloves and go."_

_Dudley started swinging immediately. Harry dodged the first few hits but was back pedalling away from his much larger cousin's assault. He soon found his back against the garage with nowhere to go. Harry darted to the right trying to get out of the way when Dudley swung with a wide haymaker catching Harry across the chest and throwing him back. Harry bounced off the garage door and Dudley swung again catching Harry in the face. The back of his head cracked on the garage door and Harry sat down hard on the ground. Dudley's hands flew up in the air and he danced back to the centre of the ring. "I won! I won!"_

_At Dudley's feet, Harry sat with a dazed look upon his face. His glasses had been knocked askew and dangled from his right ear. He continued to fumble with the eyewear until Vernon became impatient and put them back on his face. Vernon grabbed Harry's gloves and pulled him back to his feet. Blood ran from his nose down to his lips. The trickling sensation prompted Harry to lick his lips. The coppery taste was quickly identified as blood. Harry raised his arm and gently dragged it across his nose wiping away the blood._

"_I lost. It's over, right?" Harry asked hopefully. Vernon grinned wickedly in reply._

_Marge chortled at the brief round. Quietly she informed Petunia. "In the bantam league, that would be the end of the match. At that age if one of them gets sat down on the canvas the game is called for a knockout." Then, in a much louder voice she called out to Vernon, "They're hardly warmed up. Let them go the other two rounds, Vernon."_

_Once again the boys met in the centre of the ring. Harry was a bit slower getting there and was still getting his bearings after being knocked around. They touched gloves and Harry immediately backed up. He batted a few hits away and ducked a few more. Harry kept away from the corners and was constantly moving. Dudley was starting to get red in the face and winded from chasing Harry. In his frustration Dudley charged Harry trying to corner him. The much smaller boy stumbled off the driveway, which represented the boundaries of the ring, and onto the patio to get away from the other boy. In his haste Harry stepped on Ripper. _

_The dog took offense and snapped at Harry. Ripper got a hold of Harry's leg and dumped Harry over the hedges surrounding the patio. With a face full of prickly bushes, Ripper let go and ferociously charged around the obstacle to get at Harry. Harry quickly hobbled away from the dog that had just bit him, as the Dursleys laughed uproariously. In a frantic effort Harry clawed his way up a tree with low hang branches. The gloves on his hands were nearly the end for Harry, as he hung precariously over the snarling dog. He managed to wrap his legs around a tree limb and bodily pull himself up despite the gloves. Harry's heart hammered in his chest as he watched Ripper circle the tree below him._

_When it became clear that Marge was not going to call off Ripper, Harry unlaced the gloves and dropped them into the yard and made himself comfortable. He pulled up his pants leg to look at the bite. Blood flowed from the wound and ran down his leg. His sock had turned red from absorbing the blood. Harry took off his other shoe and sock. Once the shoe was carefully set aside so it wouldn't fall Harry tied the clean sock around the bite hoping it would stop the bleeding. **I will not beg them for help.** _

_The grill was soon fired up and Vernon cooked the steaks for them. The enticing smell set Harry's stomach to rumbling its discontent but he held strong. Vernon made a big deal of feeding the left over t-bone to Ripper. Around ten o'clock the Dursleys went in for the night, leaving Harry in the tree with Ripper below him chewing contentedly on a bone. It wasn't long before Harry realized he had other needs. He stood up in the tree, unzipped his fly and aimed for good ol' Ripper._

_When Marge called in Ripper at midnight Harry chuckled. **I'm glad Ripper sleeps in the guest room with Marge. He might smell a tad like the boys' loo tonight.**_

**o~o~O~o~o**

Harry stood up and opened his arms as he balanced himself walking atop the wall to the Library. The gloomy mood vanished as soon as Harry entered the building. At first, the Library had served only as a place of safety to Harry. The librarians were the stern guardians of knowledge and did not tolerate any disturbances to the patrons within. When Harry was in the Library his tormentors lost their power over him. The glasses he wore, which were often mocked by the other children, helped endear him to the librarians, who readily leapt to his defence against the aggressors. As for Harry's archenemy, Dudley, he loathed school and everything associated with learning. Dudley would never voluntarily set foot within any institute of education, especially the Library. In time, the Library became much more than just a refuge: Harry found an escape from the life he lived through books and, more importantly, a way to empower himself through knowledge.

On Dudley's eighth birthday Marge Dursley had unwittingly introduced Harry to a means of defending himself. The speed ball and jumping rope were soon cast aside by Dudley. Exercise and hard work did not appeal to the spoiled prat. With the help of the library, Harry learned all about boxing basics including how to use the speed ball and other means of training. During his time working in the yard Harry would sneak off to the garage to lose himself to the rhythm of dribbling the speed ball. The rapid circular motion built up muscle as well as his eye and hand coordination. He soon learned to duck and weave around the red ball that he sparred against.

His classmates learned first hand about Harry's new hobby. Harry's small wiry physique was hidden beneath the tent-like hand-me-downs. The appearance of being weak and tiny had lured many boys into the mistake of bullying Harry. Many games of Harry Hunting and fights with the would-be school yard bullies gave Harry plenty of experience with defending himself. Anyone other than Dudley and Piers that was foolish enough to lay a hand on Harry had their arse handed back to them.

Harry breathed in deeply smelling the musty books lining the tall wooden shelves and ran a hand along the back of the books as he walked down the aisle. The knots of tension in his neck from constantly being on alert melted away. He stood up straighter, lifted his chin and his green eyes brightened with curiosity as he browsed through the Library.

Harry often wandered the aisles waiting for a book to catch his attention. Sometimes it was the title, a certain author or topic he wanted to know more about. But every once in a great while it was special: he just knew it was meant for him to read. Today he could feel it, like the energy in the air before a thunder storm. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and there was a tingling sensation in his scalp. He was speed walking up and down the rows. The titles and pictures didn't matter. It had to be here somewhere. Harry circled an aisle three times knowing it was near now. He slowed down gazing at the books, looking all around him. With his back to a book shelf, Harry stood up on his toes to peer at the top shelf across from him. Covered in dust and barely visible was a worn, leather bound book. Harry fetched the step ladder and climbed to the top, teetering dangerously on the ledge as he stretched for the book just out of reach. He stood on one foot and tipped his head back until his neck hurt. His index finger caught the edge of the book and tipped it back to fall into his waiting hands.

Jumping to the ground Harry turned the book in his hands feeling the bumpy leather texture. His stomach swirled with anticipation. On the cover was a coat of arms unlike anything he had seen before. A lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake circled a bold printed capital letter H. The Unabridged History of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, written in calligraphy, was on the books binding. Harry reverently dusted the book off to get a better look. The book was well used and appeared to be much older than most of the books in the library.

Harry's hands shook with excitement and his stomach flip-flopped as he walked to a nearby reading table. He sat down to examine the book and found the inside covers were blank. There was no check out card, nor could he find a Property of the Public Library stamp. Harry paused to consider this curiosity before taking the plunge and completely immersing himself in the book.

Ms Lyon was returning from story time when she noticed Harry at a reading table, engrossed in another book. She walked over and sat down across the table from Harry. The small boy continued reading the leather bound tome in front of him oblivious of her arrival. It would have been surprising to see any child reading a book of that size: any child other than Harry, anyway. "Ahem," Ms Lyon quietly coughed. Harry flipped to the next page in response. "Harry," she tried a little bit louder. This time Harry's small hand came to rest on the book with his index finger pinning the stopping point. Harry looked up from the page uncertainly then broadly smiled when he recognized the visitor.

"Hiya, Ms Lyon," Harry greeted in a friendly but hushed library voice.

"Would you like to go to the plaza for lunch with me?"

He slowly shook his head. "No, thank you." He was thinking about the fact that the Dursleys took off on their grand adventure and nobody thought about what Harry was going to eat the rest of the day. _I'm glad I had a decent sized breakfast._

"Oh. I was hoping I wouldn't have to go all alone," Ms Lyon replied disappointingly.

Harry's stomach gurgled its opinion. Harry quickly shifted the chair beneath him, hoping the librarian couldn't hear his stomach over the noise of the chair.

"My treat," the librarian kindly offered.

After a moment Harry surrendered, "Thank you."

"Great; I am positively starving. Let's put your book behind the counter and go."

Harry followed Ms Lyon, happy to have company that he enjoyed. The librarian and Harry had grown close over the years. She frequently helped Harry by recommending books for him to read and to find that elusive piece of knowledge he was searching for. She had also chased off Dudley and his gang. It had only taken the one occasion. Ms Lyon had scared the hell out of the lot of them when she had turned on the pack of boys harassing Harry in the Library parking lot. When she had confronted the little thugs, Harry had felt the hackles on the back of his neck rise. It had raised a fear in Harry. Something primal, that had him screaming,"Run!" in the back of his mind. It had taken courage for him to stand his ground and Ms Lyon's ire hadn't even been directed at him. They didn't even set foot on the Library grounds for fear of running across the Librarian again. It had impressed Harry mightily.

"I can tear down mountains or build them up. I can blind a man or enable him to see. What am I?" Harry asked. He had been digging through puzzle books the last few weeks looking for a riddle to stump his companion.

Without a pause Ms Lyon answered, "Sand. Nice try Harry. Now it's my turn. You are in a cold house in the winter. It is dark. You have one match. There is a candle and there is a wood burning stove. Which do you light first?"

Harry walked along side Ms Lyon carefully avoiding the cracks in the cement. His pace slowed as he thought about the riddle. The intense look of concentration was replaced by a smile. "The match."

Ms Lyon smiled in return, pleased that he figured it out. "Very good Harry," she praised. Harry beamed even brighter at the compliment.

Before Harry knew it, the library was going to close. The other patrons had begun to make their way to the check out counter. Harry had been careful to watch the time. Once he started reading a book, Harry had a tendency to lose track of the time. He picked up the book and was going to return it to where it belonged but there was no call number, so Harry took it to the counter instead. "Ms Lyon?" Harry called. She looked up from the book bin at Harry. "I would have put this away, but I couldn't find a call number for it. If you tell me where it goes, I'll put it back."

She walked over to Harry and ran a gentle hand over the book cover. "This doesn't belong to the library, Harry." She opened the book. Then breathed in deeply, smelling the pages, and gave an appreciative sigh. "Can you smell that, Harry? It smells ancient to me and that is saying something." Harry cocked his head at that statement. Ms Lyon looked younger than Petunia and she was in her mid-thirties. "Where did you find it?"

"It was in the historical reference aisle on top of the book shelf. I didn't even see it at first and had to get the short ladder to reach it."

"The short ladder, Harry?"

"Well, I had to climb on the shelves a little to reach it." Harry reluctantly replied. She nodded her head in approval at his admission.

"Please don't climb on the shelves. Ask for help next time, Harry. As for the book, it definitely does not belong to the library. It appears to be very valuable to me. The owner will be looking for it. I will keep it behind the counter for them. Did you enjoy reading it? You were preoccupied with it all day."

"It was brilliant. Whoever wrote it, made it feel real," Harry gushed.

"What a flattering thing to say. That is very high praise for any author. If it is still here on your next visit, I don't think the owner would mind if you read a little more. That is, if you want to?"

"Oh, yes. I would very much like to, Ms Lyon," Harry answered enthusiastically.

An older woman and spiky blue haired teenager came up to the counter. Harry budged over so Ms Lyon could help them. After a moment he pushed the book cart that Ms Lyon had been working on out to the shelves. He grabbed an armful of books to shelve. Harry was quite familiar with the Library there were very few things he could not find on his own. Ms Lyon had made sure he was able to utilize the library to its fullest. _She bought me lunch and ordered in pizza for supper. It was nice being outside sharing a pizza on the bench. Going to the plaza and sitting by the fountain for lunch was even better. The least I can do is help her to finish shelving the books._

After Ms Lyon finished checking the last few people of the evening she came out and grabbed a few books from the cart. The two of them made short work of the remaining books.

"Well look at that. We're all done. Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome, Ms Lyon and thank you for the pizza and lunch at the plaza."

Harry had thanked Ms Lyon profusely at lunch and later when she shared a pizza with him for supper. She had acted as though it was a small thing. Harry rarely had anything to thank anyone for. Even the smallest of gestures meant the world to him.

They exited the Library together. Harry waited for the librarian to lock up. "It's after nine, Harry. Is anyone picking you up?"

"Wow, it is late. I better get going or I will be in trouble. G'night, Ms Lyon." Harry dashed off into the night before Ms Lyon could ask any other questions.

Harry jumped up on the railing and slid down to the bottom of the Library's stairs. He was so excited, Harry skipped to the corner. Knowing he had to get home soon, if he wanted in for the night. Harry settled into a comfortable distance eating jog at a nice calming pace that made it easy to think about the book he was reading. He was too preoccupied to notice the four legged figure detach from the shadows of the Library to follow him.

The hackles on the back of Harry's neck raised as Harry jogged home. He found his eye drifting repeatedly to look over his shoulder. He even started to sprint the shadowy parts between street lights. He had been chased plenty of times to know the feeling of being pursued but he never saw anyone behind him. By the time Harry was a block from he was flat out running as fast as his legs would carry him. He was thankful to see the lights in the house were on. However, the front door light was off. The Dursleys would turn it on for guests or Dudley when he was out later than normal. _Hell they don't even let me have a house key to get in. Why would they think to leave the outdoor lights on for me?_

He suppressed the urge to run up to the front door and pound on it until they let him in. Instead he bolted around to the back door like he had been trained. His finger punched the bell hurriedly as he continued to watch around him nervously. After half a minute his hand drifted up and rang the bell again. _Bloody hell! Petunia will chew my arse off for ringing the bell twice. What the hell is the matter with me? I've been locked in the cupboard for years with spiders crawling all over me in the dark. Vernon even removed the light bulb for a month to teach me to not waste energy after I left the light on during a thunderstorm because I was scared. There is nothing, NOTHING, out there!_ Harry tried to convince himself.

The door suddenly opened and Harry could have sworn he jumped six feet from the door. Dudley laughed at Harry's obvious scare. "You're such a gorm. You comin' in or not?"

Harry gave one last look around then hurried in through the back door.

On the far side of the house, a pair of shining eyes flickered in the moonlight, watching Harry go enter the house. The tail twitched and swung low as the form turned about to glide through the shadows and out of the neighbourhood unnoticed.

**o~o~O~o~o**

Ted had been surprised at Andromeda's request. It had been just after she had met with her sister, the non-crazy one. Evidently Narcissa was just now taking an interest in her second cousin Harry Potter. It had been over ten years since The-Boy-Who-Lived disappeared. Lucius has never done anything for anyone that he didn't get back in spades. "Kind of a big coincidence that the year their son is ready to go off to Hogwarts that she remembers her poor orphaned second cousin, don't you think?"

"I know how it sounds Ted. But I would honestly like to know too. Times were hectic back then. Everyone was busy with salvaging their own lives, trying to get back to normal. I had assumed he would be placed with family. I just didn't know who. How many others made the same assumption? He may not have any immediate family but Harry does have a rather extensive family."

"You can't say that the same thing didn't occur to you. Narcissa might be more like minded with you but Lucius…"

"Unbelievable. You still haven't got over that have you? You're still carrying that grudge over Lucius calling you a Mudblood. After all of these years, you still can't accept that the only opinion you should care about is mine. I don't care who your parents are or that before Hogwarts you thought Houdini really did magic." Andromeda still laughed about that. She teased Ted every chance she had about confusing a Muggle stage magician with a magic wielder.

Ted huffed irritably but a smile slowly crawled across his face. He could never stay mad at Andy for long. It was true he still resented Lucius for his attitude when they were at Hogwarts and it hadn't changed much since then. He was just better about hiding it. Times had changed, the Muggle-Born were rising to more prominent positions and were making breakthroughs in magic that had stayed the same for decades, in some cases centuries. Magic was new to them and they tried new methods and had fresh ideas.

The Purebloods were being dragged kicking and screaming into a new era. Wizarding society had grown stagnant. Even worse, the inbreeding to remain pure had reached such levels there was now a growing number of squibs and still-births. The magical population of England was declining. Those who were not intermarrying were labelled as blood traitors. The most famous blood traitor was James Potter and his Muggle-born wife Lily Potter. Their child was the saviour of the Wizarding world; Harry Potter: The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"So what happens if I find Harry Potter? I'm not sure that I want Lucius to know where he is at. You know I still believe that he worked both sides of the street. He may have never taken the Dark Mark but The Death Eaters never targeted any of Lucius' enterprises or lands. Everyone with any clout to their name was forced to pick a side. Which side do you think he picked?"

"Lucius did manage to get Professor Snape to accept Dora into the NEWT level potions class."

"And now I am the errand boy sent to track down Harry Potter because we owe Lucius a favour. Andy, be reasonable. You know Lucius; I doubt he has any good intentions."

"Lets start with finding him and then we can decide what to do. If he is happy and healthy then we will just say we never found him."

**o~o~O~o~o**

Eventually, Ted tracked down Petunia Dursley. Andromeda managed to remember on her own that Lily's maiden name had been Evans. She had even dragged out the wedding announcement for James and Lily. The announcement had the names of Lily's parents. As Ted recalled the wedding had been a tragic affair. Death Eaters had crashed the wedding party and Lily's parents, unable to defend themselves, had been slain. The Potters had been labelled as Blood Traitors and James marrying a Muggle-Born had been the catalyst that made them a target.

By no means would Ted consider himself to be an Auror or private investigator. He did know how to use a phone book though. Narcissa knew that Lily Evans and Severus Snape grew up together in Cokeworth, Northern England. She had not cared to find out if Lily had any Muggle siblings. Ted had simply checked the obituaries in the summer of 1979, the year James and Lily were married. Lily's parents had died at the wedding party but there would be a funeral and Muggle custom usually published the date of services in the paper. He found the announcement. The Evans had been survived by two daughters, Lily and Petunia Evans. _Petunia is the closest next of kin. She may not be a witch but blood relationship is what matters. Unless there was a will specifying otherwise, Petunia would be the first choice for custody. Both James and Lily's parents were deceased and they were active participants in a war, I can't imagine that they would not create a will for Harry's protection. Lucius confirmed that Albus Dumbledore holds the proxy vote for the house of Potter. He obviously does not have care of The-Boy-Who-Lived. The person who does is not likely to be a witch or wizard or they would be acting as the proxy. _

There was only one Paul Evans in the 1979 Cokeworth phone book. He visited the Spinners End address but the current occupants weren't home. Ted happened upon on elderly neighbour woman living next door. He explained that he was looking for Petunia Evans, a former classmate, to invite to their upcoming class reunion. After a pleasant fifteen minute conversation she told him that Petunia Evans was now Petunia Dursley and lived in Surrey. Ted thanked the nice woman for her time and help, bid her good-bye and set out for Surrey.

After consulting the phone book in Surrey, Ted found the address for the Dursleys, Grunnings corporate office, and the local school. It was disconcertingly easy. He had everything he needed before noon. _Unbelievable, this is way too easy. There are only supposed sightings of The-Boy-Who-Lived. Is there no one in the Wizarding world capable of using a phone book? I haven't even spent a day looking for Harry Potter and I have his phone number, address and the school he attends. The Pure-Bloods would never stoop to learning something so simple like how to even get around in Muggle England. Most don't even know what a phone is._

A shockingly purple triple-decker bus popped into existence on Kings Way. The door folded open and Ted got out. A second later the Knight Bus disappeared. There was still quite a ways to walk to get to Privet Drive. It was a reasonable precaution. There was no reason to think he was being followed but he didn't want to take a chance or leave a trail leading to Harry. Ted used a Muggle-repellent and notice-me-not charm to keep a lower profile. The passive charms would not do any good if a Muggle or magical being were actively searching for him. _An invisibility cloak would sure be nice right now. Too bad it would take a king's ransom to get one. _

Once Ted reached Number Four, Privet Drive he settled in across the street to watch for the-boy-who-lived. He conjured a comfortable arm chair and sat in the shade to wait. The lad had a full head of black hair when he was born and would be turning eleven in a few days. After two hours of sitting Ted was grateful that he had got something to eat when he first arrived in Surrey. As a patron of the pub, the staff didn't hesitate to bring out the phone book. His patience was finally rewarded when a small black haired boy wheeled on old fashioned lawn mower to the front of the house. No gas or electricity, just push it to get the blades spinning to cut the grass. _This has got to be him. Perhaps I should ask him his name just to be sure. Nobody has seen him since he disappeared ten years ago after all. Granted his hair is black and he bears more than a passing resemblance to James Potter. He looks much too small for being almost eleven. I never knew the man well enough to positively identify his son. _

The boy frisked the yard picking up branches and other debris. After piling what he found in the driveway he went through the yard a second time. He tugged his shirt free of his waistline and held it out in front of him, making a basket. Then he crawled along the foundation of the house picking up more branches. _What the hell? Those aren't branches they're snakes. Why is he gathering snakes and putting them in his shirt?_

He handled each snake carefully, releasing them into flower bed in the front corner of the yard next to their neighbour. Even from this distance Ted could see there was at least one adder, one of the few poisonous snakes found in England. The kid was fearlessly holding them. The front door flew open and a stick thin red haired woman stormed out of the house. A much larger blond haired boy stalked after her with a malicious grin. "See mum, I told you he was doing it again. I'm going to get the spade." He said running off down their driveway to the garage.

The boy swiftly turned out his shirt dumping the writhing mass of snakes and stood up to face the horse faced woman. A look of horror was at war on her face with a look of hatred. "What have I told you about doing stuff like that?" she accused.

"I'm just picking up the yard to mow," he answered with upturned palms gesturing to the yard.

"I've got it, Mum. Shall I chop one in half?" The big boy huffed as he charged across the yard waving the spade in his hand.

The smaller boy took a few steps forward placing himself between the snakes and the husky boy. "Insects and mice!" The little boy shouted as he protected the snakes slithering away.

"What are you going on about? Make some sense, boy." The woman said disdainfully.

"Would you rather have insects and mice inside the house, in the pantry, crawling over the kitchen counters or snakes outside the house?"

"Hmpf. Neither, you fool. Now stand aside. Dudley, get that big one."

"If you kill the snakes there will be insects and mice inside; they eat insects and rodents." He grabbed the spade in the bigger boy's hands as he said this. The boys began to wrestle over the spade. The little one didn't stand a chance. He was flung side to side and finally to the ground. The spade was twisted out his hands. The victor loomed over his much smaller opponent.

The woman placed a hand on Dudley's shoulder. She sneered at the boy on the ground. "Leave the snakes alone, Dudley. You might get bit and we don't want any more vermin in the house besides the one we have now."

It took a minute but Dudley eventually understood the insult and began to snort and snicker.

"Let's go back inside; it's much to hot to be outside today. I don't want my little Duddykins to get heatstroke. Finish the yard before Vernon gets home, boy. You've played long enough with those snakes." The woman shuddered as she said the last bit.

The boy stood up once they were back inside. He dusted off his knees and glanced over to the flowerbed the snakes had escaped to. After making sure everything was to his satisfaction he went to the mower. He backed up to the far side of the driveway for a running start on pushing the mower through the grass. The boy made several runs on the yard before stopping to wipe the sweat from his brow. His arm dragged across his fringe plastering the drenched hair to the side. Ted stood up recognizing the trademark lightning bolt shaped scar. _It's him. It's Harry Potter._

Ted continued to watch little Harry struggle with the task of mowing the law. It was a herculean task for a boy of his size. He could barely see over handles of the old fashioned push mower. The running start was essential for him to cut the grass. Harry was not big enough or strong enough to simply push it ahead of him. He stopped frequently to catch his breath and wipe the sweat rolling down his face. Ted could see that the whole back of his shirt was drenched and clinging to the boy. A few things he had witnessed were nagging at Ted.

The bigger boy had just trounced Harry in front of Petunia. That's who Ted assumed it was anyway. No one had uttered her name and Ted was sure he had the correct address. The only resemblance that Petunia had to Lily was the red hair. Then she had insulted Harry to his face alluding to the idea that she considered him to be vermin. Finally she expressed concern for her own son Dudley. Petunia was worried that it was hot enough that the chunky boy would get heatstroke. Yet she told Harry to have they yard mowed before Vernon returned. And why wasn't Dudley helping with the yard work? None of it sat well with Ted.

Harry stood beneath a tree in the front yard to take a break. He glanced around nervously then went around to the side of the house. Ted crossed the street further down the block to keep the boy in sight. Checking his Muggle-repelling and Notice-Me-Not charms as he went. Harry was kneeling by the water hose. He took a few sips then dipped his head beneath the flow of water. After shaking out the excess water Harry took another drink. He stood up and went to sit beneath the tree for a little bit.

_Where is his summer kit? It must be awful hot in those trousers and long sleeved shirt even with the sleeves rolled up. The cuff of his trousers is ragged from being walked on. His inseam is just about to his knees. I know Harry is working in the garden and probably deosn't want to dirty his good things but doesn't he have anything that fits better? The Potter family would have a fit about his scruffy appearance. _Ted thought to himself as he looked Harry over.

"If I had known they wanted the grass mowed today, I would have done that this morning when it was cooler instead of cleaning the house," Harry grumbled to himself, not thinking anyone would be able to hear him.

Ted listened in with a keen ear hoping Harry would reveal a bit more. He moved closer to hear better, Harry's mumbling had been barely decipherable. The boy gave a startled jerk at Ted's approach and looked right at him.

"Oi! I didn't see you there," Harry said with a sheepish grin.

Being seen had surprised Ted as well, but he smiled broadly at Harry's little smile. "Oh. Sorry about that. I didn't mean to give you a fright. Tad hot out to be working in the garden isn't it?" Ted asked gesturing to the mower.

"Yeah, I botched it good. Should've done it earlier when it wasn't so hot." Harry didn't make a habit of striking up a conversation with anyone. His classmates wanted nothing to do with him and adults asked too many questions for his liking. Mrs Figg and Ms Lyon were the only adults he talked to. The man had snuck up on him. His nerves had set his mouth a-flapping.

"The grass does need a trim but it looks like you take good care of it."

"Really?"

"Yes, it's a right nice job."

"Ta." Harry answered brightly with a handsome smile.

"You look knackered and bleeding hot. Why don't you do it later tonight when it starts to cool off or tomorrow morning? It's not right good for you to be working in this heat." _James and Lily were good looking folk. They both had welcoming smiles that you couldn't help but return. This young chap has inherited their comeliness and charming smile. Bit on the skinny side, makes his cheeks look sunken. I could easily wrap my hand around both of his bony little wrists. _

Harry ran a hand through his wet mop of a head staling for a moment to gather his thoughts. "It's not that bad and I've got plans later. Need to do the chores first y'know. I'm no layabout."

Ted heard the bitter tone that slightly emphasized layabout. He was about to say more when the door was flung open. The woman and her boy came out into the yard. Petunia had an accusing glare in her eye. "Are you daft? Talking to your self out there like that. The neighbours are going to thing you're going around the bend."

"No ma'am I was talkin' to this bloke." Harry said gesturing to where Ted had been standing a moment ago. Nobody was there. Harry looked left right and centre for the man he had been talking with to no avail.

"He must be talking to his Nobby no-mates Mum," Dudley said with an evil little chuckle alluding to Harry's imaginary friend.

Petunia stalked over to Harry and grabbed him by the arm. She pinched the scant amount of soft flesh beneath his arm. This was a tactic Petunia had long employed. It hurt like hell and could be done in public without drawing any attention. Harry had learned pain management from this. If he even so much as began to whinge or tear up, it would be much worse for him at the Dursleys' home. Harry made a fist digging his finger nails into the palms of his hand letting the sharp stinging pain distract him from the pinch. The longer the pinch was held the worse it became. It would turn from a dull ache to a burning sensation. Quite often, Petunia left bruises in the wake of her frustration with him. "Don't you dare make a scene in front of the neighbours. You better get your freakish ways under control right now. There isn't a single person in sight so shut your gob and get back to work."

When the door opened and Harry turned his back to him, Ted used an obfuscation charm and stepped into the shadows of the tree. As long as he was in the shadows or there was some kind of object between the caster and the target it offered concealment like he was completely out of sight. The Muggle repellent and Notice-Me-Not charm no longer worked now that Harry had seen through it and the Dursleys were actively looking for whom Harry had been talking to. They might have even seen him from inside the home but coming out and finding no one made it more credible for them to believe that Harry was talking to him self. He was close enough to hear every word Petunia angrily whispered to Harry. The stiff lip and tightly clenched fists were not missed by Ted. The bitch was hurting Harry.

The Dursleys went back inside and Ted apparated across the street to resume his watch. Harry went back to work. He never stopped for a break again, not even when the deep red BMW pulled into the drive. The car smoothly glided in right over the pile of sticks and other debris Harry had collected. "You sodding wanker, get this cleaned up," the purple faced man bellowed.

Harry visibly cringed and ran over to the drive to hectically sweep away the clutter beneath the car. "Sorry sir," Harry called as he worked away. His head dipped lower to get the rest of the litter. Just as Harry was about to stand up the car door opened knocking him hard enough on the head to sit him on his arse. Harry rubbed his noggin a moment before Vernon stepped out. He fearfully crab-walked out of the man's path. Vernon crouched to inspect the tire and make sure there was nothing else under his car.

Across the street Ted scowled and cast a clairaudience spell to make sure he could hear every word exchanged.

Vernon turned to Harry and leaned over him. "You better pray there is no damage or I'll take it out of your hide." The threat was delivered in the undertone of one conspirator to another.

After the threat was delivered, Vernon climbed back into the car. The man's weight made the suspension system grown in protest and the driver's side sank lower to the ground. He drove the car into the garage and wasn't seen again. When Harry went around back to finish up, Ted called it a night. "What the hell am I going to tell Andy?"

* * *

><p><strong>Story Recommendation<strong>**: Prince of the Dark Kingdom by Mizuni-sama, story id 3766574. Best AU Harry Potter story I have had the pleasure to read. Lord Voldemort mentors Harry Potter in this. No, it is not a dark Harry story. **

Thank you for reading the chapter. A great deal of time and effort has been committed to this story. The biggest reward you can give is a review. All comments are welcome.

**-Melverne**


	5. Ted Tonks and Mrs Figg Convene

**Disclaimer: I am borrowing from the creative mind of J.K. Rowling.**

**Rating: Rating: This story is M for a reason. There is crude content, foul language and violence in the story. If this offends you, don't read it.**

**Thank you to my beta Zarathustra46. If you have not read Vows, you should check it out. There are now three parts to the series. They are Vows, Duty and Honour. I have them listed as a favourite on my profile page and in my community, Melverne's Picks.**

**A/N: If you have read Hogwarts School of War Wizardry (a story I posted but removed), most of it is incorporated into this story. For more details on my ideas about the Harry Potter universe see my profile page. I am always looking for a good Harry Potter story to read. PM me if you have a suggestion to add to my community, Melverne's Picks.**

**Thicker Than Mud**

**Chapter 5: Ted Tonks and Mrs Figg Convene**

**Time: Summer 1991**

**Place: Little Whinging, Surrey **

* * *

><p>Andromeda had come home to find her husband in the lounge. Ted was quietly sitting on his favourite couch with a pint in his hand. One look at his face told Andromeda that all was not well. She sat down next to him and leaned comfortably into his side. Ted's arm drifted down around Andromeda's shoulders and he gave her a gentle squeeze. Andromeda waited patiently for Ted organise his thoughts and find his words. The man rarely got angry. Nor did he speak in haste. Unless he felt strongly on a matter Ted had little to say. So Andromeda sunk into his side to let him know she was there and to let him take comfort in her presence.<p>

Ted calmly drank his lager enjoying the feel of his wife beside him as he gathered his thoughts. As a father Ted Tonks had not cared for what he had seen at the Dursleys, not at all. Nor did he know what to do about it. He knew some parents were heavy handed in the raising of their children. But to get hit with a car door and to scramble away in fear was something else altogether. He wasn't quite sure if they had crossed a line. What he had found out so far certainly warranted closer scrutiny. _Perhaps tomorrow I'll pop in and see what happens. Maybe I'm coming to the wrong conclusion, making a monster out of the Muggles before I get the facts. It could have been an off day for them. _

"Things are not well with your cousin. His Aunt Petunia had grabbed Harry by the arm and from the looks of it hurt him. She must have pinched him hard," Ted said thinking about the stiffness of Harry's jaw and his tightly clenched fists. These were all tell tale signs of how much it had hurt him. The boy had been holding back a yowl of pain. "She had even whispered sternly to him not to make a scene. Harry had waited until Petunia and his cousin Dudley went back inside before rolling up his sleeve and raising his arm to have a look at it. I saw the inflamed flesh on the back of Harry's upper arm. He had rubbed it to take the sting away."

He had also seen a circular scar on the boy's upper arm. _Petunia probably pinched him hard. I think the circular scar looks like a burn though. The older blokes where I grew up used to hold fags up each other's hands until one of them chickened out. If they held the lit fag to their hand long enough it would leave a burn. The skin would boil over and leave a circular scar after it healed. This looks a tad to big for a fag, even though it was circular. The area looks to posh for the blokes to be doing dares like that, especially at Harry's age. _

Sensing that her husband was not finished, Andromeda waited for Ted to continue. He took another swing of his lager to keep his composure. At that moment she knew how upset Ted was. If their home was Ted's kingdom, than Dora was every bit the princess. The man had gone to pieces the first few weeks that Nymphadora had left for Hogwarts that first year. He saved all of his time off from work to take during the Hols to be with his daughter. Not once had Ted raised a hand to her. It was a terrible trial for him to even raise his voice to her. One tear from Dora broke Ted's heart. Andromeda had to be the voice of reason with their daughter and she was the one who doled out any punishments. It just wasn't in her kind and loving husband.

"What I had seen with Vernon was even worse. The man had deliberately smacked Harry with the car door. Harry had been mowing the lawn and piled all of the branches in the driveway. Vernon drove over them with his car. When Harry rushed over to clear it away he opened the car door hard enough to knock the boy on his rear. I wouldn't be surprised if it left a goose egg on the boy's noggin. And there is no mistaking that Vernon threatened Harry. Vernon told him that he would take it out of Harry's hide if he found any damage to the car. They put him out to work in the afternoon, the hottest part of the day. She knew… She knew how hot it was outside. Petunia even expressed concern that Dudley shouldn't be outside in the heat. But it didn't stop her from telling Harry to finish mowing the lawn. And that great big slug of a cousin was twice Harry's size. They had a scuffle right there in front of her. She didn't put a stop to it either. Just stood there and watched Harry get thrown to the ground. Not a peep from her about it. And then she called Harry a vermin right to his face. I'm telling you Andy, it's just not cricket! The way they treated him."

Andromeda could feel Ted's hand on her shoulder start to shake. Ted had poured himself a drink to calm himself, she realised, but talking about what he had found got the better of him. Removing his arm from around her shoulders and down to her lap Andromeda began to massage the palm of Ted's hand. After a few minutes she began to rub his wrist and forearm. Her hand drifted up to the back of his neck where she squeezed the ridge just above his shoulders. Then she firmly rolled her thumb and forefinger in circles over the bone behind his ears. Andromeda loved it when her husband became protective. She banished the pint from his hand before sliding into his lap and kissing him tenderly. "Dora won't be home until this evening," she said in a sultry voice offering one more comfort to her husband.

**o~o~O~o~o**

Now that school was out, the summer was in full swing. Every morning Harry was up and bucking to be let out of his cupboard. Petunia awoke each morning with Vernon and preceded him downstairs. Harry would fix them breakfast and a cuppa. Once Vernon left Harry would sneak out to the garage for an hour. Dudley's speed ball had been mounted in the back corner where it could be used whenever Dudley wanted. The only time Dudley used it though was when Vernon felt like bonding with his son. Vernon would take Dudley out to the garage to teach him about boxing. Dudley would actually pay attention even. He was always interested in new and better ways to hurt someone.

Unbeknownst to the Dursleys, Harry was a regular user of the speed ball. He'd sneak out every chance he got to dribble on the ball. The rhythmic thwap of his fist on the leather soothed Harry. Bobbing and weaving around the ball as it swung gave him an edge in evading Dudley and his gang or fighting when forced to. It had really improved his hand-eye coordination, as well as his hand speed. Harry had expected those improvements after reading about the benefits of training with a speed ball. His interest had been spurred after watching Dudley hit it as hard as he could. The speed ball bounced right back whacking Dudley in the face. Harry had laughed out loud then bolted from the garage when Dudley turned an angry glare on him.

Ever since Harry started going to school he had been a runner because he was constantly running away from someone. Dudley and his crew kicked the ten bells out of Harry every time they caught him. Chasing him down had become a game to them called Harry Hunting. It had become necessary for Harry to become fleet of foot. He had studied up in the library on running in the fitness books. The best improvements came from randomly sprinting during a run along with changing his route to get different hills and slopes. That sudden burst of speed Harry could put on meant the difference between getting laughed at for running away or getting duffed up but good. He'd gladly take the humiliation and name calling over the bruises any day.

Aunt Marge's gifts for Dudley's eighth birthday had been a turning point for Harry. She had unwittingly handed Harry a means to defend himself. Spending the evening in the tree smelling the steaks on the grill, nursing the dog bite and then watching the left-overs get fed to Ripper had pissed Harry off. He vowed to never let anyone lay hands on him with out paying for it. Anyone, except for one of the Dursleys of course. Harry had no delusions about what would happen, if he retaliated against any of them.

So Harry had begun his regimen of daily leg lunges, push ups and sit ups. He ran to his destinations and varied the route, which had the perk of helping to prevent an ambush. The speed ball was used at every opportunity along with the jump rope. Before the year was up Harry had been cornered in the playground at school. It was Piers Polkiss who chanced upon Harry and was looking to take the mickey out of him. When Harry raised his trembling fists in defence, Piers had laughed. Piers wound up on the ground with a shiner and got knocked down twice more before learning his lesson. Harry had walked away with a smile on his face and a skip in his step.

Harry was suspended three days for fighting. The dread of the Dursleys finding out about his brawling had settled in and Harry was having his doubts about standing up for himself. When Mrs Polkiss called that evening there was no doubt left in Harry's mind that retribution against Piers, the son of Petunia's bridge partner, was no longer an option. Vernon had taken a belt to Harry every day of the suspension. Being locked in the cupboard and being let out only twice a day was horrid. He was allowed to use the toilet and was given some bread and water to eat while he was out. The satisfaction of clocking Piers definitely had not been worth it. Unfortunately being the smallest and smelliest boy in the school made him the target for everyone. He had to convince the entire school to leave him alone. It was hard for Harry to do that when he had to take the punishment dished out by Dudley and Piers on a daily basis.

After working with the speedball in the mornings Harry would start his chores. On a good day everything would be done before lunch. He would then fix lunch for the Dursleys. Without Vernon around Harry was able to make enough for everyone and eat his fill. Petunia didn't usually complain about the amount of food prepared unlike Vernon. Vernon considered everything that didn't go into a Dursley gob as wasteful. Once his chores were finished Harry would make a hasty retreat from the Dursleys to avoid a game of Harry Hunting. Dudley's friends came over everyday, so Harry was eager to get out of there. He'd spend the afternoons in the Library. It was air conditioned and nobody bothered him there.

Once a week Harry would mow the lawn for Mrs Figg and move the garbage bin up and down the driveway for her. He also collected her apples. She always shared them with him in exchange for gathering them. Much to Harry's delight she would make an apple pie and serve it with ice cream. They would have tea and pie on the days that he mowed. Her cats would twine about his legs until Harry petted them. Dudley didn't care for Mrs Figg's cats because they always hissed at him. One of them even scratched Dudley when he tried to pet the cat. Every once in awhile Dudley would wing a rock at one of the cats but he never hit them. His aim was atrocious and if he tried to get closer the cats would back away. Harry thought they were smarter than Dudley. They often followed Harry around even as far as the library and school. To his amazement they would stop at the street corners with him and hang around the school and library waiting to follow him home. He knew the Dursleys would say it was due to his abnormal nature. Harry thought it was cool.

When the door bell rang Harry was sent to answer it. It was Piers at the door. Neither of them said anything for a moment. Reluctantly Harry opened the door. Piers shouldered Harry aside when he walked by and called out, "Hey Big D!"

"In the kitchen Piers," Dudley bellowed back.

Harry followed Piers back to the kitchen to finish washing up. Piers pulled out a chair, spun it around and straddled the chair so the back was to his chest. He grabbed a hand full of crisps and chatted with Dudley for a minute before they left. Harry did his best to escape the house before Dudley went out with his friends. It was too easy for them to lay in wait for Harry to come out and 'play', if he didn't leave first.

After procrastinating for as long as possible, Petunia ordered Harry out of the house. Harry just hoped that Dudley and Piers got too bored to wait for him. Harry peeked out the kitchen windows on his way to the back door. Harry always had to use the back door. Petunia was too ashamed of Harry to let the neighbours see him enter through the front. She firmly believed he attracted less attention sneaking in and out through the back. Unfortunately it also made it that much easier for Harry to get caught by Dudley. They could beat the piss out of Harry in the yard but woe to Harry if he fought back against any of them where Petunia or Vernon could see it. Even if it were five on one, it was still Harry's fault and it was his arse that got beat for causing trouble. Harry hated going outside after Dudley.

Subconsciously Harry held his breath when he opened the back door hoping for the best. He cracked the door open and cautiously peered to both sides of the door. Seeing the coast was clear Harry shot out the door slamming the door behind him with a cringe. _I'll hear about that later._

Harry ran straight into the backyard giving a quick glance over his shoulders to see if he was being chased. Nobody was after him for the moment so he walked over to the driveway to look for any of Dudley's gang. He didn't see anyone there either so he made his was down the driveway. Keeping in mind that they could have been on the other side of the house, he kept a sharp look out behind to make sure they didn't sneak up on him. He walked the far side of the driveway away from the corner of the front of the house where they could be hiding waiting to jump out and grab him. Nobody was there either.

With a sigh of relief Harry started for the sidewalk in front of the house. Suddenly he heard pounding feet on the driveway behind him and he caught a glimpse of Dudley, from the corner of his eye, charging out from the other side of the house towards him. Harry turned left and sprinted away from his pursuers. Even from a dead stop Harry was able to take his short lead and double the distance in seconds. Piers and Dudley weren't even close. His heart was still pounding and Harry continued to sprint away from them snatching glances over his shoulder to make sure he was safe. With his attention divided Harry didn't notice the garbage bin shoot out of a driveway into his path. He rolled right over the bin crashing spectacularly. The impact with the sidewalk was so hard that the bottoms of Harry's trainers touched the back of his head.

Dennis was on Harry in a second. He held Harry's face to the sidewalk and ground his knee into Harry's back with all of his weight. Harry couldn't get a firm hold on Dennis to do anything about it and he wasn't strong enough to push out from underneath the bigger boy. His eyes rolled wildly to look down the street. Dudley and Piers casually walked towards him. Piers had an evil smile plastered on his lips and Dudley was whistling his usual 'A hunting we will Go.' His mind quickly thought over the sequence of events and realised that Dudley and Piers had herded him right to Dennis. Harry was angry at the situation and even angrier with himself. _Unbloodybelievable, the dumb duo outwitted me. I deserve what I get for being that stupid. I could have cut towards Dudley and run around him. There's no way he would have been able to catch me. Instead I went for the open road, right where they wanted me to go. _

"I'm gonna beat your arse Potter," Dennis hissed in his ear before shoving off of Harry's face to stand up. He kicked Harry in the ribs then greeted Dudley and Piers.

"You effed him up Dennis. That wipe out was a freaking riot," Piers laughed.

"Yeah bloody hysterical arsehole," Harry answered from the ground gently rubbing the bloody scrap along his chin from where he'd struck the sidewalk. His tongue probed his mouth for the sore spot and wobbled one of his baby teeth. _Great, at least it isn't a permanent tooth._

Dennis wound his foot back getting ready to give Harry another kick.

"Just cause I don't knock the shite out of these two doesn't mean I won't give you a right good pasting. Kick me again Dennis and Harry will go hunting this summer for you," Harry said looking Dennis in the eye daring him to deliver the kick.

Dennis stared at Harry then slowly lowered his leg. Harry had dished out plenty of punishment the last time they got a hold of him. Malcomb had a big goose egg on his forehead and bruised shins. Gordon had a bloody mouth from biting his cheek. While Dennis himself got socked in the jaw that had sent him arse over kettle and a kick in the thigh that had left a fist sized bruise that had hurt like hell. Harry did all of that against five boys all of whom were bigger than he was. Dennis didn't want to go down that path with Harry. He didn't fancy his chances if it were just him and Harry going at it. Harry had sent plenty of kids at school home with a black eye, bloody lip or worse. They had all thought Harry would be easy to duff up because of his size.

Piers and Dudley were surprised to see Dennis back down. He had always been one of the first to join the hunt. Harry thought about trying to make a run for it while they were distracted but a familiar voice called out, "Harry, would you mind helping me carry a few things?"

Harry's heart warmed with thankfulness that Mrs Figg had come to his rescue yet again. "Sure thing Mrs Figg. I'll be right over."

She stood on the front porch with one of her four cats winding about her knees watching Harry across the street. It wasn't the first time that Mrs Figg had called him over for one reason or another when Harry had been captured. The kind old woman seemed to have a knack for getting Harry out of tight spots. Harry hopped up, slid by the boys and patted Dudley on the shoulder, "Scuse me chaps. Maybe you'll catch me later."

It felt great to do a little gloating about his narrow escape. With the rest of the summer ahead of him Harry was sure he would pay for it later. But right now, it felt mighty fine. Dudley wouldn't do a thing to Harry in front of Mrs Figg. She had called Dudley out on his behaviour before. She had ripped into Dudley like no one had ever dared to. When Dudley threatened to tell his Dad, it didn't even bother her. Mrs Figg had replied in a steely voice, "Send him over. I have a few things to settle with him too."

Harry used to think that Vernon chose to not make an issue of the things Mrs Figg had said to Dudley because she watched him once a week. Vernon had made it abundantly clear family night was for family and Harry was an unwanted burden not family. Vernon would never have paid to take Harry out to eat and the cinemas with them nor would he leave the little miscreant home alone. Mrs Figg and Aunt Marge were the only ones they would leave him with, probably out of fear for what someone else might notice about Harry. Not that Harry was complaining, he liked old Mrs Figg and going over to her house once a week. She didn't go around the twist when freaky things happened either.

**o~o~O~o~o**

_Harry had been given a stern thirty minute lecture from Petunia about behaving himself and a strict warning to not do anything freaky. It had nearly robbed the seven year old boy of his joy to see Mrs Figg. She was always nice to him and made the best biscuits. They were even better than the ones Petunia made for Dudley or Harry liked to think since he had yet to have one. She also read him stories. His favourites came from The Tales of the Beedle Bard._

_When Vernon called to let them know he was on his way home Petunia shuffled Harry out the door with a final dire warning, "Be good or else."_

_He had taken his first step away from the back door when it shut. The rain hadn't let up at all since it started. Harry was completely drenched before he reached the end of the driveway. He trotted across the street to Mrs Figg's house going out of his way to run happily through every puddle on the way. He made a final jump in the biggest puddle of all at the base of Mrs Figgs steps. The water shot up and away from him even high enough to get his hands. _

_A full hardy laugh filled Harry's ears. He looked up to find Mrs Figg standing at the top of the steps under the porch watching him and shaking her head mirthfully. Harry brightly smiled in return and waved a greeting,"Hiya Mrs Figg."_

"_Hello Harry. Why don't you come on inside." **No rain coat, boats or even a brolly. He is soaked from head to foot. **Mrs Figg thought as she raised her hand to run through his fringe which still managed to poke out at odd angles in spite of being wet. She couldn't help but notice the flinch when her hand came up. It was noticing the little details that had made her a successful Auror._

_They walked in the door together and Mrs Figg watched Harry toe off his shoes on the floor mat. She could see the treads of the trainers had been run smooth. A crack ran the width of his shoes at the balls of the feet. The sole of one shoe had begun to separate making the trainers look like it had a mouth. "Why don't you take a warm bath so you don't catch a chill. I'll dry your clothes and start dinner while you clean up." She said leading Harry to the bathroom. _

_She started to draw a bath while Harry stood at the door waiting for her to finish puttering about. While the water ran she sat out a wash clothe, soap and shampoo on the corner of the tub then a big fluffy towel on the counter. Once Harry had everything he needed she excused herself from the room, "Please hand me your kit and I will dry it for you." _

_Harry nodded his head and stepped inside nearly closing the door behind him. He undressed behind the door then handed his clothes through a narrow gap. "Thanks Mrs Figg."_

"_You're welcome Harry. I'll set your kit outside the door once they're dry. Mind you to wash behind your ears too," she said walking away. In the kitchen she used a cleaning and drying charm on the clothes. She folded his things up neatly noting the lack of grundies and the poor state of his kit in general. A flick and swish later, Harry's socks no longer had holes and the thread bare spots in his trousers were repaired. **Such a nice little boy, I don't know why Petunia lets him go around like this. Dudley's things fit better and look nicer. I hate to say it but Harry smells dastardly sometimes. I wonder if I should say something to her or perhaps Dumbledore.**_

_Harry carefully stepped into the bathtub. It was just like the bathtub shower combo at the Dursleys that he was allowed to use. He hadn't had a bath since he was a toddler when Petunia had to bath him. Harry suppressed a shudder. It hadn't been a good experience for either of them. When he was old enough to work the shower he was left on his own, much to Harry's relief. The water slowly rose on his calves as he looked down at the colourful seashell adhesives beneath his feet. The texture tickled when he ran a single foot over it then traced it with his big toe. He sat down in the tub with the water just above his bony hips and rising. After scooting forward he lay back in the tub and let the water continue to rise. He hadn't realised how cold he was until getting in the water. The warmth seeped in relaxing his muscles and soothed him right down to his bones relieving various aches and pains._

_The water now lapped at the corners of his mouth and his arms floated serenely beside him. Soon he had to tip his head back to keep his nose and mouth above the water. Harry noticed that his body was gaining buoyancy and he arched his back to see if he could float. **The Dursleys didn't see a need to send me to swim lessons with Dudley or to see the ocean with them when they vacation during the summer hols. So this is probably the closest I will ever get to swimming. **He thought morosely. _

_He let himself float in the water feeling the splash f the running water on his toes. Plugging his nose he submerged his head and let out his breath when his lungs began to burn before coming up for air. He did it one more time so he could blow bubbles in the water before returning to a float. The door swung open and a cool breeze caused the exposed warm wet skin to prickle. Harry suddenly sat up fearing that Mrs Figg had come to drag him out by his ear for taking so long like Petunia and Vernon did. They would have never tolerated him playing in the water like this or for using this much water, let alone hot water. To his relief it was just one of Mrs Figg's cats that had pushed the door open all the way. He felt a little pang of guilt for thinking that Mrs Figg would do any such thing as he turned off the water and started to scrub up. _

_Mrs Figg had prepared most of the meal earlier in the day and slid the cottage pies into the oven. It would take around thirty minutes before it was ready. She went ahead and mixed up the batter for the biscuits so it would be ready to go into the oven. The kettle was heating up for the tea and would soon be ready as well. All the warm foods would taste good and help warm them up this rainy autumn day. Mrs Figg walked Harry's clothing back to the bathroom and saw the door now stood completely open. She could see Harry splash about his black hair peaked through a thick lather of shampoo which ran down his back. He submerged the shampoo bottle to the bottom of the tub then released it to watch it shoot back up with a splash. It would bang into the sides of the bath tub which made him grin and do it again. She walked in and placed his kit on the counter next to one of her four cats. "Here are your things nice and dry. Supper will be ready in about ten minutes."_

_Harry twisted around in the tub to face her making sure that his back was away from her. "Ta! What's for dinner?"_

"_Cottage pie and chocolate biscuits for afters of course."_

"_Mmmmm, chocolate biscuits. That's my favourite."_

"_I know that's why I made it."_

_Harry beamed with pleasure knowing that not only did Mrs Figg make dinner for him but she was also making chocolate biscuits just because it was his favourite. _

_After Mrs Figg left, Harry finished in a hurry to go see if he could help with dinner. Harry's wet fringe was hanging over his eyes, his shirt clung to his back because it was still wet and he was working on buckling his belt when he shuffled into the kitchen. His eyes roved about the kitchen looking to see what he could do. Mrs Figg cracked the oven to take out the pies and Harry stopped to appreciate the smell. It smelled so much better when he knew that he would get some of it._

_Mrs Figg watched Harry with amusement when he stopped and audibly smelled the scent of the cottage pies. "That smells really really good Mrs Figg."_

"_Thank you Harry. Have a seat." She said kindly,_

_In a moment half of a pie was sitting in front of him. He watched the steaming hot contents on his plate. **If I have to wait much longer I am going to start drooling. **_

"_Go ahead and help yourself. I know you like them when they're hot."_

"_Mmmmhmmmm," Harry agreed enthusiastically picking up a fork and tucking in. **This must be what having a Mum would be like. Someone who serves hot dinner to you and makes chocolate biscuits for afters just because she knows it's your favourite. She even reminded me to wash behind my ears, let me play in the bathtub and take as long as I wanted. **Harry thought to himself._

_A hot cuppa was sat by his right elbow. "Milk and sugar?"_

"_Please." Harry muffled through a full mouth._

"_Don't speak with your mouth full dear and here is a napkin for your lap."_

_Harry just smiled at the kind rebuke and matronly advise, it made him feel even warmer inside._

"_You're the best Mrs Figg."_

"_And you're a right proper young gentleman Harry."_

_Harry was an old hand in the kitchen and hopped up to wash up after they finished eating. He was grateful for getting to eat as much as he wanted, getting a special dessert and having it served to him. Harry wanted to repay her and make sure she knew how thankful he was for everything she did. It was not lost to him how much happier he was cleaning up when he wasn't forced to do it. When Mrs Figg thanked him his heart soared._

_Later that evening, they were sitting in the lounge and Mrs Figg was reading to him from the Tales of Beedle the Bard. Harry wasn't tall enough to sit in the rocking chair and keep it moving without having to bodily move himself back and forth to get it rocking. At some point Harry had become so wrapped up in the story that he forgot to keep physically moving. Yet the chair continued to rock of its own accord. When the story had come to an end Harry sat with the chair rocking him as he thought about the meaning of what had been read to him. It was a few minutes before Harry noticed that Mrs Figg was watching him with a content smile upon her face. He smiled in return. There was a sinking feeling in his gut a moment later when he realised the chair was still rocking away without his help. He leaped from the chair with a wild look of panic upon his face. **Oh no! I did something freaky. Petunia and Vernon will whip me good. Even worse I did it in front of Mrs Figg. Now she will know what a freak I am.**_

"_Harry what's the matter?"_

_Harry was at a loss for words. He didn't know what she had seen or what she was thinking. His lip quivered. The evening with just the two of them had been so nice and he had gone and ruined everything. "I… I…" Harry stuttered not sure what to say. **How long was the chair rocking? Maybe she didn't see it.**_

_Mrs Figg reached out taking him by the hand gently pulling him into a comforting hug. "You're fine child. You did nothing wrong. Nothing at all."_

_**She does know. She saw it. **"But I made the chair rock."_

"_Yes you did. A mighty fine job of it too."_

"_But… but it was a freaky thing I did."_

_Mrs Figg shook her head and firmly said, "No Harry, there is not one thing about you that is freaky or unnatural. It was an accident and things like this will continue to happen for quite some time. Don't you worry about a thing, it will get better."_

_Harry looked at her flabbergasted. Everything she just said alluded to her acceptance that he was a freak, but she didn't seem to think any less of him for it. It contradicted everything the Dursley told him. If Vernon had been sitting there Harry wouldn't even be able to get up on his own after Vernon was through with him. Harry began to tremble in Mrs Figg's arms. His next concern burst forth unbidden from his lips, "Promise you won't tell Petunia or Vernon. Please promise you won't tell on me."_

_His green eyes found Mrs Figg's and pleaded with her. Mrs Figg was shocked by the reaction and fear that she saw. Her mind was making connections that Mrs Figg did not like. **Is he afraid of being rejected or disappointing the Dursleys? For that matter why doesn't he refer to the Dursleys as Aunt and Uncle? I am definitely reporting all of this to Dumbledore and I am going to keep a closer watch on Harry too.**_

"_Why Harry? Why must I promise not to tell them?" Mrs Figg pushed._

"_Because. Just because," Harry answered childishly. Because was always an acceptable answer from an adult._

"_Please tell me?" Mrs Figg tried again using the magic word."_

_Harry just shook his head in resistance. Tears had begun to leak from the corners of his eyes and his breath was becoming hitched. _

"_Shhhh. It's alright Harry. I won't tell. I promise," Mrs Figg gave in not wanting to stress Harry any further. She was a retired Auror and this was not a dark wizard she was trying to elicit a confession from. She squeezed Harry to her and began to rock him back and forth comfortingly._

**o~o~O~o~o**

Hidden once again by the Muggle-repellent and notice-me-not charms from yesterday Ted had watched everything from that afternoon unfold. From the moment Harry had come down the drive way, to watch Harry's flight from his cousin and friend, the disastrous fall (which nearly had Ted break his concealment to see if the boy was alright) he took and right up to the neighbour lady calling Harry over for some help. _Now I have seen his cousin trounce him in the yard and chase him down with the help of his friends. One of the boys even kicked Harry in the ribs when he was down. I'm guessing that if the neighbour hadn't intervened Harry would be getting worked over right now. I wonder if any of the neighbours or the school know anything about Harry's home life? _

He watched Dudley and the other two boys arse about for awhile. One of the boys was unfortunate enough to have pinched face that was for lack of a better description rat like. The third was chunky but not obese, not like Harry's cousin, who was positively huge. Ted had endured primary until his letter from Hogwarts came. He knew boys like this. Bovver boys, who wore bovver boots and liked to kick people with the boots. Ted shuddered recalling the days of being picked upon.

Ted knew first hand that Muggles were more sensitive to magic than the Wizarding world thought. They could sense something was different about you. At that age before escaping to Hogwarts anything different was held against you. Then there were the awkward moments when unexplainable things happened around you. These things just made it worse. The Muggle children didn't just suspect something about you was different, they knew it. Hogwarts had been a boon for Ted. He learned that he wasn't as different as he thought. There were others just like him. These odd occurrences that kept happening to him were perfectly normal for a wizard. It was just his magic expressing itself. Sometimes his magic responded to a wish, to defend him or just to let loose excess magical energy. Not even puberty had been as awkward as the bouts of accidental magic. At least with the onset of puberty there had been a dorm full, no a tower full, of boys that went through the same thing with him. It was not like the days before Hogwarts, when weird things kept happening to just him and nobody else.

Lost in his thoughts Ted scarcely noticed when the boys had grown bored and left to find something else to do. Nor did he notice the orange taby kneazle that settled in under a hedge to watch him. He picked a place in the shade summoned a nice plush chair and made himself comfortable not knowing how long it would take Harry appear again.

He had drifted into a light slumber only to awaken an undetermined amount of time later with the kneazle curled up on his lap. "Oh hullo luvy," he greeted the cat giving it a good soft stroking and scratch behind the ears and under the chin.

Mrs Figg stood off to the side unnoticed watching Ted take liberties with one of her cats. The four Kneazles had all bonded with her as familiars. They were dead accurate when it came to sniffing out things that had been concealed or glamoured. And were a great judge of character. Mrs Figg had been on alert the moment she discovered there was a wizard lurking in the neighbourhood. All four of her kneazles had been prowling around scouting for her. When she saw Harry about to get beat up by Dudley's gang again she called him in under the pretence of doing chores. It had gotten him out of trouble and into her house where she could keep an eye on him until she learned who was out there.

When the lurking wizard was found across the street Mrs Figg almost called in the reinforcements. Fortunately she had decided to not tip her hand and just keep an eye on him for awhile. When her familiar decided to take a nap with him on his lap no less, Mrs Figg walked Harry home. It had been difficult to convince Harry that he was not in trouble and that it was necessary for him to stay inside until she told him otherwise. Eventually Harry reluctantly agreed to do as he was told.

She had not liked sending Harry home. Mrs Figg had long since sussed out that the Dursleys were not kind to him in any shape or form. In fact, she suspected much worse might be happening. However, Harry would never confide in her and she could not see any bruises on him. Other than that prig, Dudley and his gang, relentlessly picking on Harry there was nothing adamant. Harry was slovenly and ill kept but she didn't think it was by choice. The clothes he wore were definitely Dudley's cast offs. He seemed to have only two sets of kit that he alternated between. It was no wonder that he had such a dreadful odour. The clothing had a stench from being worn repeatedly.

The boy wasn't opposed to soap and water. She knew because Harry always asked to take a bath when he came over once a week when the Dursleys went out for family night. Mrs Figg always cleaned his kit while Harry was in the bath and Harry always made a point to pull his shirt up over his nose inhale deeply then thank her for washing his kit. More than once she had thought about taking a good look at Harry when he was in the bath to see if he had any signs of abuse. But, she was trying to be sensitive to the fact that he was at an age that it might embarrass Harry to be seen starkers.

While she enjoyed Harry's company it bothered her immensely that Harry was always left out of family activities. All the while she reported her suspicions to Dumbledore hoping he would address the concerns with the Dursleys. She understood this was the safest place for Harry to be but the only time Harry appeared happy was when he was with her.

Mrs Figg was not blind to the rise in use of dark artifacts this year or the subtle increase in unexplained Muggle deaths and disappearances. This year heralded the return of the-boy-who-lived and not everyone was happy about it. When the first article in the Daily Prophet ran about Harry's first year at Hogwarts an Auror that had hunted down Death Eaters during the war turned up dead on the front step of the ministry. Even she had been attacked once in Diagon Alley and had been forced to subdue her attacker. It was a child of one of the Death Eaters she had captured. It could be said with a certainty that not everyone was happy about Harry's return.

Fortunately, Mrs Figg knew that she was not alone in her watch. During a brief meeting at the Leaky Cauldron with Hagrid, Hogwart's Keeper of the Keys, he assured her that his agent was still in place and watching Harry as well. For security reasons they did not know who the other watcher was and they operated independently.

At first, Mrs Figg thought she had stumbled upon the other watcher when she found the wizard. But he was too sloppy, to be an agent for Hagrid. He was sitting in an over sized arm chair directly across the street from her house. The wizard had even fallen asleep. _I just need to find out who he is, what he knows and why he is here. It's not safe to assume that because he hasn't done anything that he means no harm._

"Excuse me sir," Mrs Figg prompted, all the while keeping her wand in hand behind her back.

"Oh, excuse me ma'am," Ted answered politely, wondering if his Muggle-repellent and notice-me-not charms had worn off. "Sorry to have nodded off like that. I hope I haven't disturbed you."

"Not to be rude but who are you?"

"Of course, of course, Ted Tonks." He replied getting up and shooing the Kneazle from his lap. "Friendly little bloke. Is he yours? Looks like a purebred Kneazle and a very handsome one at that."

The orange taby continued to wind busily around Ted's legs and even stretched to his full length to paw upon his trousers for more attention. Ted chuckled and reached down to scratch his new friend once again.

"Thank you. He has one the best in show more than once. You wouldn't happen to be Andromeda Tonk's husband?" Mrs Figg asked. Everyone knew of Andromeda of the Black family. She had been a social disgrace for marrying a Muggle born. Something that was unacceptable to any upstanding pure-blood. Rumour had it she was even disowned and in exile from the house of Black. The new news circulating was that she had daughter who graduated from Hogwarts and was starting her advanced studies leading to a career as an Auror.

"She hasn't kicked me out yet," Ted said with a smile. He reached for his wand to dispel the chair and suddenly found himself staring down the end of Mrs Figg's wand.

"Stop right there," she said in a tone that sent a chill down Ted's back. She watched Ted's adam's apple bob when he swallowed.

"I was just going to dispel the chair."

"Hands where I can see them," she said in a no nonsense voice. _Former member of the Black family or not the entire lot of them were corrupt. Bellatrix crucio'd the Longbottoms into insanity, Narcissa was married to that slimy bastard Lucius and Sirius had betrayed his best friends. Rebus disappeared and I never heard much about Andromeda but that doesn't mean a thing. There were plenty of surprises on both sides of the fence. _

Ted complied and slowly moved his hands around to where she could see them. He tried to remember if he knew her. "Did I do something wrong? Who are you?"

"I'll be asking the questions. What are you doing here?"

He shrewdly considered his alternatives, which weren't many when you were being held at wand point. _Think Ted Think. What am I doing here? What is she doing here? Oh. Oh I got it! _"I was um… Does this have anything to do with Harry Potter?"

Her eyes narrowed before she commanded. "Let me see your forearms." _I don't remember anyone saying anything about either of the Tonks or their affiliation in the war. But it doesn't hurt to be cautious. He doesn't strike me as a member of the inner circle or anyone the Dark Lord would have wanted to conceal his mark for. After we caught onto the mark on the left forearm they started to put the mark in other places but that was only for individuals who warranted it._

Ted asked, "Are you an Auror," as he bared both of his forearms to her. Not getting an answer he barrelled on, "You're here to watch Harry aren't you?"

Mrs Figg cast a high level Auror spell designed for the detection of the Imperius curse which came up negative. She waved her wand at the chair, "_**finite**_." The chair disappeared. _Well he appears to be clean. A few more questions and then I need to decide what to do with him. _

"Well?"

"Well what?" She snapped.

"Are you here to watch Harry or not?"

"How did you find him? Why were you even looking for him?"

"My wife Andromeda is Harry Potter's second cousin. She wanted to know what became of him. So I was sent out to look for him."

_And so it begins every person that can claim an ounce of shared blood with the-boy-who-lived is going to come looking for him. If one of the well wisher's can find him others will too. Harry's going to need body guards to keep everyone away from him. I fear the poor boy will not do well with that. _"So how exactly did you find Harry?"

"Well we knew he hadn't been placed with any of his relatives in the Wizarding World. So that left his Muggle relations. Lily's parents had been slain at the Potter's wedding so that left her sister, Petunia. We knew that Lily had grown up on Spinners End in Cokeworth. I talked to one of the Evans old neighbours who told me Petunia had gotten married to Vernon Dursley and moved to Little Whinging in Surrey. I looked their address in the directory. I found Harry yesterday afternoon. Those relatives of his had Harry working outside in the middle of the afternoon. The poor boy was soaked with sweat."

_Oh, so that's the game. They're angling for Harry's fame and fortune. If they had cared one bit about him they would have looked for him ten years ago. _"If you are so concerned about his welfare why did you wait until now to look for Harry?"

"I'm not proud of it but he wasn't my cousin. People were disappearing left, right and centre especially Muggle-borns. I kept my head low and protected my family as best as I could. We even talked about moving to America or Australia. When it was over were just happy to be alive and healthy. Time got away from us and Andy assumed that Harry was squirreled away someplace safe. Well let me tell you what I have seen the last two days sickens me. I would never treat my little Dora like that. I wouldn't treat a stray dog like that. If this is what I found in two days, what do you know? How long have you been watching Harry? This week? This year? His whole life? You stand there judging my motives for looking for the-boy-who-lived but what kind of life has he lived? I'd wager he doesn't give a lick about all that muck. When I told him he was doing a right good job of taking care of the lawn he thanked me like I just handed him a fifty pound note."

Mrs Figg's cheeks flushed with shame. She felt the same but carried on with her orders to watch the house and Harry. Mrs Figg's reply sounded lame even to her, "This is where Harry is the safest."

"The safest from what? His own cousin duffed him yesterday after noon over some ruddy snakes. His Aunt stood there and watched. She came out later and pinched him under the arm hard enough to leave a bruise. The boy's uncle hit him in the noggin with the car door for leaving sticks in the drive. Harry was positively terrified and scrambled away from Vernon when he got out of the car. There's a scar on his arm that I'm sure is a burn from a fag. Who do you suppose gave that to him? And today I watched him get chased down by a gang of boys, including his cousin, who looked ready to beat the piss out of him. One of them even kicked Harry in the ribs. I'm not up to date on the fads of the kids these days but in this neighbourhood I don't think wearing clothes that are big enough to fit a boy three times Harry's size is trendy. Let alone wearing the same clothes he had worn the day before. So what exactly are you keeping him safe from?"

She shook her head in defeat. Ted had pointed out the same things that she had reported to Dumbledore over and over again. "There are blood wards keeping out dark creatures and those who bear the mark. All is not as safe as the ministry would have you believe. How his relatives treat him is not ideal but it was the best option at the time. In a little more than a month he will be at Hogwarts and away from those awful Muggles."

Andy had tried to explain to him, after their cuddle yesterday, that while Lucius was a self serving bastard he was almost always right. Lucius believed that something was a foot and it involved Harry Potter. Narcissa passed along that Lucius had said if it were Draco I would be very concerned. If there was one thing Ted had in common with Lucius it was how protective they were of their children. Ted thought he could kill to protect Dora. Lucius would torture you and make you beg for death before he was through.

"So that's it? That's your solution. Let him be miserable and unloved. When he shows up at Hogwarts give him a pat on the shoulder and tell him we know the last few years put you through hell but hey everything is going to just fine now. What about the hols? Keep him at Hogwarts during Christmas. What about Spring break? How are you going to look him in the eye and say I know you hate it but you have to go back during the summer? I'm barking up the wrong tree aren't I? You're just his jailor."

The last comment broke Mrs Figg. "I don't know what else to do. It doesn't seem so bad. He never complains. I've never seen Harry with any bruises."

"How could you? He was wearing long sleeves today and yesterday. Don't you find that the least bit odd considering how hot it is? Who knows what's hidden beneath them. The kit is way too large for him. They're big enough to fit his cousin." Ted hesitated. "They're his cousin's cast offs aren't they? That's why they're so ratty. That's a nice house the Dursleys live in. Vernon drives a BMW and Petunia is a homemaker. They are not hard up for dosh. So why does Harry run around dressed up like a pauper? James and Lily are spinning in their graves. I know the Potters weren't luxuriously wealthy like the Blacks or Malfoys but they were pretty well off. Well enough off that there only son shouldn't look like a waif."

Mrs Figg had lost all control of the conversation. Ted was making to many accurate guesses regarding Harry's up bringing. Even worse his wife was in the loop and probably knew as much as he does. Then there were the Malfoys how much did they know and what game were they playing at? She was not trained to do memory charms nor was she convinced that Ted was wrong. "What would you have me do? Yes I am following orders but I don't see a better way to keep him safe. The relationship between Harry and his relatives are tenacious at best. When I started watching Harry I was told to keep my presence to a minimum and under no circumstances let them know I was a witch."

"Surely there are alternatives. You say he is safe here yet I found him in a single afternoon. Why not keep him under a fidelius charm? Right now anybody could find him. I did. So is it as safe as you say? If so why are you here? What happens when he leaves home? Let one of his other relatives have him. There are a lot of extended family to the Potters like the Longbottoms, the Malfoys and the Weasleys. Even my wife can claim kinship. The Weasleys or Longbottoms are ancient families. The land they live upon has an abundance of quintessence. Their homes are probably as safe as Hogwarts itself. The Malfoys have the best security Galleons can buy. Only a Black property might be more secure. Why not give Harry to a family that will take proper care of him?"

"Like the Malfoys?" Mrs Figg sneared.

"Merlin no. I don't trust that smarmy bastard. If it weren't for the potential gain in influence, I don't think Lucius would even tolerate the presence of a half blood in his home. He certainly can't stand a Muggle-born like me," Ted replied with a cringe.

"The Weasleys have seven children, five still living at home. That could be overwhelming for Harry." Mrs Figg said a little louder then she meant to. Ted nodded his in agreement. She looked at Ted again and gave him careful consideration. _My Kneazles have yet to steer me wrong. _

"There are the Longbottoms. Augusta is raising Neville. Perhaps she would consider taking Harry in. I wonder if James and Lilly left a will declaring their wishes?" Ted offered up.

"Would you like to join me for a cuppa Ted?"

"That would be greatly appreciated Mrs."

"Arabella Figg. Just call me Bella."

* * *

><p><strong>Story Recommendation<strong>**: **The best adventure story I've read goes to The Lie I've Lived by jbern, story id 3384712.

Thank you for reading the chapter. A great deal of time and effort has been committed to this story. The biggest reward you can give is a review. All comments are welcome.

**-Melverne**


	6. The bag of shite on the door step

**Disclaimer: I am borrowing from the creative mind of J.K. Rowling.**

**Rating: Rating: This story is M for a reason. There is crude content, foul language and violence in the story. If this offends you, don't read it.**

**Thank you to my beta Zarathustra46. If you have not read Vows, you should check it out. There are now three parts to the series. They are Vows, Duty and Honour. I have them listed as a favourite on my profile page and in my community, Melverne's Picks.**

**A/N: If you have read Hogwarts School of War Wizardry (a story I posted but removed), most of it is incorporated into this story. For more details on my ideas about the Harry Potter universe see my profile page. I am always looking for a good Harry Potter story to read. PM me if you have a suggestion to add to my community, Melverne's Picks.**

**Thicker Than Mud**

**Chapter 6: The bag of shite on the door step**

**Time: Summer of 1991**

**Place: Little Whinging, Surrey **

Vernon awoke feeling much better after a full nights rest. The previous day had been a tad off. Some unannounced festivity had taken place. Weirdos were out and about on every street corner in the most outlandish garb. Men were wearing dresses and folk of all ages had cloaks of every colour imaginable. There were even bangers and other explosives going on at all hours of the day. Not to mention the ruddy owls crapping all over the place. The damn birds were supposed to be nocturnal. It had been a difficult day at best for Vernon. This day certainly couldn't be any worse or so Vernon thought. To top it off Vernon heard one of the crazies mention a name that he had hoped to never hear again, Potter.

Petunia had just made it through one hell of a day. She had been razed by what seemed like a flock of owls at the grocers. The damn things had been flying about all day putting her on edge. The constant explosions had irritated her darling little boy to no end. It had been impossible to put the little tyke down for his afternoon nap when the annoying bangers kept going off startling Dudley awake. He had been positively frightful the rest of the day without his nap. It had been an immense relief when the hooligans finally stopped setting off the fireworks. When Vernon came home last night he had been in a right foul mood too. Today would no doubt be much better than yesterday she thought as she went to retrieve the morning paper.

She opened the front door and took a step out. Her foot brushed against something, something that should not be there. Petunia brushed a long blonde lock of hair out of her eyes to peer down at the basket on their door step. Nestled deep in a swaddling blanket laid a messy black head. A scroll protruded near the handle in plain view. At once her expression soured like she had just tasted something rotten. With a shaking hand Petunia pulled out the scroll and shut the door leaving the sleeping babe on the doorstep.

Vernon came down stairs to find Petunia with her back pressed against the door like she was holding up a dam about to burst. Her cheeks had the distinct green hue of someone about to be sick. In her tightly clenched hand was the end of a scroll that had unfurled and rolled across the floor.

"What is it Pet? What's the matter?" He had asked looking at the odd correspondence in her fist. The writing upon it was like cursive but fancier and in a deep emerald green.

"My sister and her husband are dead." Petunia replied flatly.

Vernon huffed indifferently. He had not liked either one of them. They were much too nice for his taste. The bloke had been a handsome man. He was the slim athletic type with a cocky smile and an air of confidence that drew women like flies. His hair had been a disorderly affair that looked utterly ridiculous. A man everyone seemed to like and wanted to be in the company of. Vernon had learned to despise the popular boys like him.

Petunia's sister was a right pretty little bird though. She had startling green eyes that drew your attention and a smile that took her from nice looking to beautiful. The type of young woman you would expect to see on the arm of a chap like that. The Evans had been very proud of Lily and her husband. Both of them had been at the top of their class at some elite private school. Yes, Vernon had disliked both of them on sight. When he found out that neither of them worked it had made Vernon livid from envy. To top it off Potter had to be a rich little bastard. Well off enough that they only had to work if they wanted to. The Potters were two snobs with a lackadaisical attitude Vernon did not care for at all.

"Their baby was left on our doorstep."

"What?" Vernon choked out.

"Their kind, don't think like normal folk do. They have queer ways about them."

"Like the travellers or gypsies?" Vernon asked thinking about all of the weirdos dressed up like they had just escaped from the loony bin that he had seen just yesterday.

"Much worse than that, they are unnatural freaks. Believe me." She said with a shudder. Her face darkened with hatred. "I won't have that abomination in my home no matter how much they pay us."

"Pay? How much are they offering?"

"The monthly stipend for his expenses is more than you make. There is also some money to acquire everything needed to raise another child including a tidy sum of money to purchase a larger house so he has a room of his own."

Vernon licked his lips in anticipation. _It couldn't be that bad to have just one more baby in the house. The monthly income granted for the brat's care was more than enough money to make up for Petunia staying at home to raise their little Dudley just like she wanted to. The fools are throwing money at us. _

"Let's not be too hasty Petunia. The little tyke is your nephew after all."

Petunia shot daggers at Vernon with her eyes for mentioning that monstrosity on their front step was related to her. "Their ilk is of no concern to me."

"But sweetheart think of the things we could do with that money. Dudley could be raised as he deserves to be and you can continue to stay at home just like you want to."

Her resolve began to waver at the prospect of being a stay at home mother. "I don't know Vernon. The letter said he is one of _them_."

"It can't be all that bad. So he might look or act a little different. If it's a matter of his willy he's young enough to get that bit nipped off like we did with Dudley. You know so he'll look like other proper Christian boys."

"No, it's not that. They… well. They can do things you would never believe possible." Petunia struggled to say magic without sounding like she was barking mad. Lily had told her that they were prohibited from using magic in front of Muggles or even talking about it. Family members that knew of the Wizarding World, were not allowed to speak of it either.

"Like what?" Vernon asked getting frustrated.

"You'll see if we take that freak into our home," Petunia warned ominously.

Petunia turned and opened the door to her surprise an owl was perched upon the stair railing with a scroll attached to its leg. She knew it was further correspondence from _them_. Petunia had seen plenty of messages delivered to Lily and their parents. She heard Vernon come up behind her and place a hand on her shoulder. He looked out on the step taking in the basket holding the Potter brat and the owl peering at them expectantly. After a few moments the owl fluffed it feathers irritably and extended the leg holding the scroll towards them.

"Bloody hell," Vernon uttered in Petunia's ear.

"It's a message from _them_." Her hand lashed out to snatch the scroll afraid of being bitten by the creature. The owl fluttered its wings to reorient itself on the railing. Petunia screeched in fear and backed into Vernon pushing them both into the house then slammed the door.

She unrolled the second scroll. The contract outlined their duties for the care of one Harry James Potter. It described the protections granted to Harry's family upon accepting him into their household. At the bottom were two signature lines. The line for Harry James Potter was completed by a bloody fingerprint on the signature line next to his name. The other for Petunia was waiting for her signature. There was a soft pop when a quill suddenly appeared in the air next to the scroll. It hovered with a slight sway waiting to be used.

Petunia shrieked again and Vernon jumped back knocking the coat rack to the floor. Vernon began to have misgivings about his earlier statements. He was no longer so sure that he wanted the Potter boy in his home. _What had Petunia called him? A monstrosity? _

Petunia turned hesitantly to Vernon questioningly.

"How long do we have to keep him?"

"Until he reaches his majority, seventeen."

"Sixteen years. You said _they_ could do things. More things like this?" He asked gesturing towards the floating quill.

Petunia nodded and started to recite examples with a slight smile upon her face. "I'm not sure what all he will be able to do. Lily could pick flowers that stayed fresh for months. Flowers would bloom when she touched them. Butterflies would land upon her dozens at a time. Leap from trees and flutter to the ground like a falling leaf. Then…"

"Then what?" Vernon prompted noticing that the slight smile on Petunia's had been replaced by a scowl.

"Her letter from that damn school came. Lily was whisked away and she came home with outlandish stories of a magical castle, ghosts and magic. A stern Scottish woman had visited to deliver Lily's grades in person. She had been so proud of Lily's accomplishments. The woman had allowed Lily to use her wand to do magic. Lily turned a handful of buttons into beetles and half a dozen needles into matches. She even levitated the coffee table. My parents were so pleased."

Petunia was too wrapped up in her tale to notice the look of outright disbelief on Vernon's face. Yet he would turn an eye to the quill that appeared out of nowhere floating in the air mocking him. Vernon picked up a brolly and waved it around the quill in a circle trying to find an invisible wire. He even looked around for a hidden camera. It was a desperate bid to come to terms with what he was seeing.

Watching her husband's antics with the floating quill irritated Petunia. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are we taking it in or not?"

Vernon hesitated. Petunia was quite clear in the sentiments she had towards the Potters. Yet she was tempted by the gain of bringing the boy in. He was more than in favour of accepting the little bundle of money on their doorstep. The boy was just a baby. They could make him mind. All they would have to do is clearly lay out the expectations. It would be inconvenient to have him around but they could do it. "Yes. We can deal with anything that comes up."

In a sudden rush, Petunia grabbed the quill, slapped the scroll against the wall and scribbled her name as fast as possible before she could change her mind. The instant the quill hit the paper there was a sharp pin prick of pain upon the back of her hand. When Petunia was finished the untidy scrawl of her rushed signature appeared on the back of her hand. A low hiss of pain escaped her lips.

Vernon stared at the back of Petunia's hand taking in the signature that appeared there and the matching blood red signature on the paper. The scroll wiggled out from under Petunia's hand rolled up and vanished along with the quill. His wife ran to the water closet and was violently ill. Vernon stood in the hall occasionally offering support between his own morose thoughts. Petunia scoured her hands until they were bright red and then rubbed an ointment into the signature on the back of her hand.

Glancing at his wrist watch Vernon realized that he was now late for work. "I've got to get going Petunia. I'm late for work." He said apologetically heading for the garage.

In a daze Petunia watched Vernon leave. She heard the back door close and listened to the garage door open. Their car started and Vernon backed down the drive. His tires squealed a bit when he hit the street and again as he sped away from their home. Several more minutes passed before Petunia reluctantly returned to their front doorstep. The basket was still sitting there with the paper next to it. "Where is a wild dingo when you need one," she muttered staring down at the sleeping baby.

She sat Harry down in the lounge and rooted through the basket her nephew arrived in. Surprisingly there was a full set of documents including the birth certificate for Harry and guardianship papers. It would make it simple to add the orphan to their family.

Soon after Harry had been brought into the house the trouble began. Harry had cried from the moment he woke up. The boy never had a single moment of silence. He continuously cried. Until he grew hoarse but even then the tears continued to run from his eyes. Petunia had been sure it was because of the inflamed red scar on his forehead. It was hot to the touch and seemed to pulse beneath her fingertips. It was fortunate that Harry had come with the appropriate paperwork because they soon took him to the paediatrician. Unfortunately they could not find anything wrong with the boy and they would not prescribe anything to help him sleep. So Harry had cried and cried. It drove Vernon crazy and he started to frequent the pub to escape.

They had just moved into their new home and Vernon needed to get away. He departed late one Saturday night after having had enough of unpacking. Harry was still wailing away somewhere in the house.

_The brat has a set of lungs on him. I'll give him that but I wish he would just shut the bloody hell up. _This was Vernon's last thought to himself as he slammed the front door on his way out. He stalked down to his auto, revved the engine and peeled out of the driveway. "To 'ell with the bloody neighbours," Vernon muttered as he fumbled with the radio stations.

A pair of cold black eyes deep within the shadows of a neighbouring yard watched Vernon back his car up. Once the man was clear of the driveway and in the street a pale hand emerged from the black robes of the watcher. A quick flick and stab of the wand set a tracking charm upon Vernon Dursley. The hand disappeared and the figure seamlessly merged with the shadows once again.

Vernon pulled away oblivious to the eyes watching him and headed for the pub he had found a few blocks away. The patrons were from the surrounding area, a much nicer neighbourhood than they had lived at before, and were a better behaved lot as a whole. A lone telly ran behind the bar playing the latest football game, boxing match or news broadcast. The place was neat and clean, a real family friendly establishment. At this hour everyone was here for a stout lager though.

After finishing off his second drink Vernon hit the loo. He had only been gone an hour and intended to be away until much later when the brat had exhausted himself and passed out or was to hoarse to cry anymore. Plus, there was always the possibility that he could drink himself into a drunken stupor then it wouldn't matter if the kid was next to Vernon's head screaming his lungs out. Vernon stopped at the bar for another round and to watch a bit of news before returning to the table he had claimed.

When he returned to his seat another person was sitting there. It shouldn't have been a surprise for a Saturday night. The pub tended to be a bit busier on the weekends after all but someone taking his table just didn't sit right with Vernon. He stalked over to the table blinded by his momentary rage. His inebriated state did not pick up on the fact that everyone in the pub seemed to be avoiding the stranger dressed in black. Vernon slopped some of his lager on the floor as he began his rant, "Look you. This is…"

Vernon lost his enthusiasm for barking at the stranger when he turned his black eyes on him. The man was obviously unimpressed with the speech. He even managed to look like he was peering down his hooked nose at Vernon even though Vernon was the one standing. His shiny black hair, while greasy, was neatly pulled back revealing his gaunt facial features. The stranger's lip curled back in a sneer when he answered, "You were saying?"

The big man stood dumb struck. There was something unsettling about the stranger at the table. It was quite unusual for anyone of their age to be dressed all in black. But that was the only thing Vernon could place his finger on. There was more and it was avoiding him at the moment.

Seeing that Vernon was at a loss for words, the man gestured to the chair across from him. "Why don't you join me?"

Dumbly Vernon sat down without comment. Remembering the beverage in his had Vernon took a long drink and wiped a meaty paw across his gob. His ability for speech along with his manners were forgotten. They sat silently working on their pints. When their eyes met Vernon felt his head spun for a moment.

"My name is Steven," the man finally introduced himself.

Vernon came out of his stupor when the other man spoke. He shook his head slowly realizing his companion had introduced himself with a generous amount of self import Vernon replied. "Vernon Dursley, I'm a director at Grunnings."

"I am a chemistry professor at a private school," Steven answered sensing that it was important to Vernon to establish credentials.

Steven flagged the barmaid for another two pints as the two men got to know each other. After a few drinks with Steven, Vernon was flapping his gob about everything going on in his life, including the bag of shite left on their door step that the perpetrator forgot to light on fire. He complained of how the awful Potter brat kept crying and how it was driving him mad. His irritable nature and how he had begun to snap at his subordinates.

"Have you raised your voice to Petunia or your son Dudley?"

"Yes," Vernon miserably replied with a shameful face.

"It's not their fault."

"I know," Vernon whinged with his head hung over his drink contemplating its colour.

"Have you raised your hand to your wife or child?"

"No, I would never touch either of them."

"You're a good man Vernon but you need to take control of the situation. The Potter boy is corroding the foundation of your family. If he will not welcome the care you are giving he needs to be isolated. It is a sickness that cannot be allowed to spread to your loving family."

"But we agreed to take the boy into our home."

"True, but did the contract specify that anything other than the basic necessities needed to be provided? He is an obligation. If he will not appreciate the happiness you offer, than focus on your own family. You have agreed to provide food, clothing and shelter. He only needs enough food to keep from starving. The clothing does not need to be fancy or even new, anything that covers his body is fine. A roof over his head is the only shelter he needs."

"He's just a baby."

"For now, but he will grow up. Set his expectations low. Do not cater to his whims. If he deserves better then give him more. Make the boy earn his place; otherwise, it would not be fair to your own flesh and blood, your only child, your son, Dudley. The boy is nothing more than a return on investments at this point. You need to assume the worst. Petunia's sister and brother-in-law were estranged for a reason. Bad blood is bad blood after all. Don't let the little monster run your house."

"Damn straight he won't." Vernon slurred back before hammering down the rest of his drink.

"As for the crying if the doctors reported him healthy it could be the boy's colicky nature. Find someplace dark and quiet. Isolating him could calm him. It will definitely help you to keep your temper under control and your sanity in check."

When Vernon woke up the next morning he couldn't remember how he got home. His head was pounding something awful. At least he had slept peacefully until nearly eleven o'clock in the morning. The sunlight shining in his eyes didn't help any either. Simply turning his face away from the windows set his stomach churning. Across the hall the woeful cries of a fifteen month old boy was getting louder. Vernon groaned and buried his head with pillows hoping to drown out the noise but peace continued to elude him. His blood quickened as Vernon's irritation grew. If he had not been nearly incapacitated from his night on the town Vernon might have wrapped his hands around the kid's neck. "Petunia shut the bloody brat up!"

His shouting just made Dudley start to cry as well. Now both of the little boys were crying. He could hear Petunia making quiet shushing noises to Dudley trying to assure their son that everything was all right. Snippets of last night's conversation started to seep through. Vernon rolled to the side of the bed and forced himself to sit up. "Petunia?"

"Yes Vernon." Petunia poked her head in before cautiously entering the room. Her arms were full of a sniffling Dudley. Their baby boy timidly raised his eyes from Petunia's shoulder to quickly sneak a peek at his Dad. Dudley's little cheeks were streaked with tears. After that brief moment Dudley turned back around and buried his face back in his mother's shoulder.

"We cannot keep carrying on like this."

"I know but what can we do. He will not be still and it is taking its toll on all of us."

"We could move him downstairs to the guest bedroom." Vernon replied carefully watching Petunia's reaction. She was very protective of Dudley and he wasn't sure how Petunia would react to his suggestion of moving her nephew to the first floor bedroom.

"All right, let's try that."

Vernon blinked once in surprise. "All right then. Let's do it."

They had started by moving Harry downstairs to the guest bedroom. When his piercing scream continued to irritate them, they shut his door. With Harry downstairs the noise was almost tolerable. Harry's old bedroom became storage for the growing number of things they bought for Dudley. The only problem with the arrangement was when Marge came to visit. Marge lived far enough away that it wasn't practical for her to stay for just one day. Vernon wasn't about to give up his office, he did too much work from home. Nor did they want to constantly take down the crib and move it every time they had a visitor. Taking his bar acquaintance's advice Vernon proposed moving Harry into the cupboard under the stairs. Petunia's only reply was to walk over to the crib and pick up one end and wait for Vernon to get the other.

Vernon's new found friend had been right. Once everything had been arranged the way they wanted it, the whole family was sleeping better. Even Petunia was in a much better mood. It had been a strain for her to accept Harry into their home. After all it was the Potters who were responsible for the death of Petunia's parents. When he had asked why the boy was not sent to his Grand Parents, Petunia had replied that they had been killed as well. The Potters had become involved in something that resulted in the death of nearly all of their relatives. Petunia loathed her sister and brother-in-law. Vernon had not been surprised at all the boy's ilk were of the worst sort and deserved their ill fates, in his opinion. They didn't even hold decent jobs just like those gypsy people that lived in a trailer somewhere and swindled good honest people out of their money. It called into question where the monthly stipend was coming from. Vernon's dodgy ethics didn't keep him from accepting the money for taking care of Harry though.

Things had been running smoothly for the first few months until the brat learned to climb out of his crib. Harry had scared the living shite out of Vernon one night. The boy knew that he was not allowed upstairs under any circumstances. They had to beat his arse a few times for climbing on the steps but he learned to stay away. So why the hell the boy thought it was acceptable to come upstairs was beyond him. They had just gotten comfortable after Dudley padded in and crawled into their bed when the thunderstorm began. Petunia had soothed and comforted their son until they were sleeping peacefully. There was some heavy rain, strong winds gusting about making the house squeak, lightning and thunder. It was during the lightning that he saw a pair of eyes level with the bed staring at him that scared the piss out of Vernon.

Vernon was so mad he took a brush to Harry's arse before marching him back downstairs. He dropped Harry back in his crib and slammed the door shut. After a moment he locked the door. For safety reasons they had agreed to never lock the door but Vernon was mad as hell after getting scared like that. If the boy now knew how to get out of his crib who knows what else he would get into. Vernon walked around to the steps when a flash of lightning illuminated the room. A crash of thunder that shook the whole house quickly followed. Vernon's foot barely touched the first step when Harry started to beat his tiny fists on the door screaming bloody murder. Vernon stomped back to the cupboard and wrenched it open. A small figure hurtled out of the cupboard and wrapped its arms around Vernon's knees nearly knocking him down. After gaining his balance Vernon pried the boy loose and let Harry have it with the brush again. When the boy was lying on the ground crying Vernon said, "shut your gob and be quite or you'll get more of the same."

Now that they had started to lock Harry in the cupboard at night Harry did not like it at all and would start crying the moment they put him in at night until he cried himself to sleep. Petunia started to shut him in there when Harry disobeyed as well, which grew to include, anytime that Harry or more importantly Dudley cried. When the boys out grew their cribs Dudley got a big boy's bed. They threw the old baby crib mattress on the ground for Harry.

That summer Vernon had run across Steven again. They were deep in their cups when Vernon confessed his handling of Harry may have been a bit heavy handed. The boy was probably just as frightened of the thunder storm as his little Dudley was. Steven had listened, nodded his understanding and advised, "You will not regret this later. A stubborn child must be dealt with decisively. The boy knew he was not allowed upstairs. Children will make you feel guilty for the littlest of things. Do everyone in your household a favour and teach the brat respect."

Vernon continued to see Steven every few months. Normally during the hols when the schools were not in session. Steven had been very accepting of everything Vernon told him over the years, including the first year of primary when Harry had received top marks in school. That day had enraged Vernon like no other. His own son, Dudley, had barely passed and the teacher even recommended holding him back a grade. Vernon had beaten Harry to the point that he passed out. They had thought about taking him to the hospital but they held out for fear of what would happen. It had taken three days before Harry could even get up without help. The boy had an impressive pain threshold, capacity to take abuse and an even more amazing ability to recuperate. Petunia believed it was his freakish nature at work. When Vernon told Steven about how he lost control, Steven only expressed concern for Vernon's family. He had asked if Dudley and Petunia were injured. That was all that mattered. They had never wanted the boy and he would be out of the Dursley home when he came of age. Dudley and Petunia were family and should never be the target of his ire. If Vernon needed to vent his frustrations then use the unwanted child. It was better than taking it out on Dudley or Petunia. Steven knew the score and appreciated what Vernon was going through. He always had solid advice for Vernon.

Vernon was once again at Mickey's Pub in the summer of 1991.

"My boy is growing up," Vernon announced boisterously to the pub and raised his pint to the answering cheer. Most of the patrons couldn't stand Vernon Dursley but this was the second round of the evening he had paid for. He could have been shouting kiss my fat arse and they still would have cheered.

Vernon navigated the busy establishment making his way to the table he shared with his old drinking mate, Steven. After a few pulls on his lager, Vernon pulled out a handful of pictures. All of the pictures were of a gaudy orange and maroon beach ball. "That's my boy," Vernon gloated.

Closer inspection did indeed reveal that the pictures were of a rotund boy in a ridiculous maroon tailcoat, orange knickerbockers and a goofy straw hat. In most of the pictures he held a walking stick. The pictures brought back happy childhood memories for Vernon. He was so proud that Dudley would now be attending his old alma mater. Seeing Dudley strut around in the school uniform had been one of the proudest days of his life. Vernon laughed out loud spraying some of his drink in Steven's face. The man scowled and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe off his face.

"Sorry ol' chap. I couldn't help it. I was thinking of how Dudley had promptly turned on Harry and whacked his arse with that knobbly stick. You should have seen the boy jump."

Vernon snorted in mirth and had to wipe an eye. He could still hear the sound of the stick whistling through the air and the sharp crack when it hit Harry. It was like music to his ears. The smack was a right bloody good one too. Harry had jumped about a foot in the air and rubbed his arse for a minute. The Dursleys had all had a good laugh at that. Dudley was a natural Vernon didn't even need to tell his son the knobbly sticks were used for hitting each other when the teachers weren't looking.

"What about the boy? Where is he going to school?" Steven asked with a note of curiosity in his voice.

"Him? He's going to Stonewall High if they will have him. His scores were barely enough to finish the grade he was in." Vernon answered with a scowl. Today was a day for him to be proud of his boy, Dudley, and he did not want to talk about the freak. In the back of his mind Vernon was hoping and praying that Harry would not be given an alternative.

"I just thought he might be attending school with Dudley. Didn't you say Lily had gone to a prestigious private school? The students had to have certain qualifications to even be accepted."

"Well yes there is that but I don't think it will happen." _I hope I beat that nonsense out of him. It's been quite a while since Petunia or I have seen him do anything unnatural. Well the other day when he had been picking up those ruddy snakes again. Petunia said it's just plain creepy to hear him hissing to the snakes and watching them slither right on up to him. Not to mention the conversation with nobody but him around, the boy is a nutter._

"Oh?"

"He hasn't got a letter of acceptance anywhere else and we sure didn't apply on his behalf." _He better not get one from Lily's school either._

o~o~O~o~o

After being ambushed by Dudley and his crew shortly before Dudder's birthday, Harry started taking different routes to the Library. He knew that depending on help from anyone was foolish. Not that Mrs. Figg's timely intervention wasn't nice, Harry just couldn't count on her being there every time Dudley assaulted Harry.

So Harry took the simple precaution of leaving for the Library in a random direction. He never managed to shake the habit of leaving as soon as the chores were done. The desire to be away from the Dursleys was just too great. The lure of the book Ms Lyon kept behind the counter for him was also an incentive. Harry rushed through his labours, so he could spend more time at the Library reading about Hogwarts.

One day, after Harry took care of Mrs Figg's yard he sat at the table across from Mrs Figg eating lunch with her. He was more animated and carefree than Mrs Figg had ever seen Harry. His legs bounced jubilantly beneath the table shaking the plates and cups. She didn't have the heart to tell him not to talk with his mouth full or to sit still.

"The Four Founders were the greatest witches and wizards of the century! There was Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw. It was Helga Hufflepuff who summoned the others to forge an alliance to create something greater than any single one of them could achieve on their own. She was the mortar of the Founders. Helga kept the peace. You get that many powerful people together somebody's gotta do that, right?"

"Yes, Harry. You're absolutely right. How about the others? How did they work together?" Mrs Figg asked the excited boy. At once her thoughts turned to how Harry had managed to get a copy of a History of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Well Godric Gryffindor was brave. He carried a sword and fought with it too! It wasn't just magic. Rowena Ravenclaw was a sage of many topics and top notch witch. Salazar Slytherin was a formidable wizard who appreciated being subtle." By this point in his story Harry had finished eating and was pacing back and forth across the kitchen waving his hands about excitedly. Mrs Figg had never seen Harry in this state before and found herself asking him questions to keep the boy talking. She was greatly relieved to see him acting like a typical ten year old boy.

"Don't you mean sly, Harry?"

"Um, no more like being crafty or smart about how to get people to do what he wanted. It was his idea to keep Hogwarts hidden from the real world. He even had a protector for the school."

"Is that how it ends?"

Harry looked up at Mrs Figg and smiled again. "No, there's loads more, I still haven't finished it."

"Which Founder do you like the best, Harry?"

"I think they're all great. Hogwarts wouldn't have been the same without even one of 'em. It's like I said, Hogwarts was bigger than anyone of them. Together they were greater than. . . well, pretty much anything."

Harry cleared the table and washed the dishes humming to himself as he weaved dexterously around the hoard of cats. Once in a while he would pick one up and give it a good petting until he was finished cleaning everything up.

"Do you hear that Harry?" Mrs Figg asked when he was done.

Harry cocked his head to one side and listened. "Hear what?"

"I think a book is calling your name."

A roguish grin lit his face. "Thank you for lunch, Mrs Figg."

"It was my pleasure young man. Good bye, Harry."

"Bye!" Harry waved and bolted out the front door. The door banged shut behind him as Harry sprung lightly down the steps. He was building up speed, suddenly in a rush to get to the Library and the waiting book.

A sharp whistle pierced the air as Harry hit his top speed running past the park. He looked around to see Dudley and his friends in the park watching him.

"Hey, Harry, come here!" Dudley was waiving his Smelting stick motioning Harry over with it. Harry wasn't a big fan of the Smelting stick. It was one of Dudley's numerous birthday gifts. Evidently the boys at Smelting took turns whacking each other with the sticks. Vernon said it built character and actively encouraged Dudley to take swings at Harry with it for practice.

For a second Harry was tempted to give Dudley the finger. Instead he laughed bitterly.

"Come on, Harry."

"Yeah, come on, Harry," Piers parroted.

Harry shook his head. "No, thanks." He turned to leave.

"You sure? I've got something for you. Actually it is something of yours." Dudley smiled and held up Harry's cigar box.

The ache in Harry's stomach felt worse than the time Vernon lost it and punched him in the gut. Harry felt the sandwiches he ate for lunch swell against the back of his throat. It was all he could do to force himself to take the next laboured breath and keep his lunch down. "No," Harry whispered.

Piers shouted in his best game show host voice, "Harry Potter, come on down!"

Harry dreadfully shuffled off in Dudley's direction compelled to obey. His eyes locked on the box in Dudley's hand. Dudley turned away from Harry and walked further into the park. Piers mockingly bowed low to Harry as he walked by.

Dudley talked as they walked along. "You know this was our last year of school together. Next year the only time we'll see each other will be over the summer hols."

They stopped at the picnic tables. Dudley sat the box and his cane on the table then picked up a bag of quick light charcoal. He tossed the bag in the grill and lit it. "I thought we should do something special to celebrate."

Harry plucked at the tail of his t-shirt nervously as he watched Dudley pick up his Smelting stick again. The stick whistled as it whipped through the air. "Dad says I need a little practice. How about it, Harry? Wanna help me out?"

Harry staggered a few steps when Gordon smacked him hard on the back with his hand. "Yeah, give us a hand, chap," Gordon teased.

"May I have the box back afterwards, please?" Harry politely asked. With the Dursleys it was always best to be as polite as possible. He knew something bad was going to happen no matter what he did. Sometimes if he was polite and humble, it wasn't too terrible.

"That depends," Dudley replied leaning on his cane.

"On what?" Harry replied playing Dudley's little game.

"If you do what I tell you." Dudley grinned evilly.

Harry looked at the box and then at Dudley again. He wondered what could possibly be worse than what Vernon or Petunia have done to him. After a second, he knew Dudley had him. There was nothing he wouldn't do to get his only possessions back. "Fine. I'll do whatever you tell me to do."

"Make him take it on the bare!" Piers burst out helpfully.

"Right - O. You heard Piers. Drop your drawers," Dudley commanded.

"No," escaped Harry's lips before he could stop himself. The low gravelly voice seemed to come from a stranger.

Harry jumped when Dudley's Smelting stick cracked down on the cigar box caving in the lid and blowing out the sides. A piece of blue paper poked out the side of the box catching Dudley's attention. "What's this?" His plump hand snatched the paper out of the ruined cigar box.

"Please Dudley. Really I'll do whatever you want." Harry choked out as he hastily unfastened his belt.

Dudley shook out the report card that Harry had dug out of the rubbish bin and pieced together years ago. His eyes narrowed seeing the grades. "Think you're a smart little prick, don't you? You're just an unwanted orphan. Nobody else would take you. So we got stuck with the freak."

Harry let his pants drop around his ankles. "Dudley, please. Let's just get this over with."

In a surprisingly swift move for someone of his size, Dudley rounded the table and struck Harry across the face with his stick knocking him to the ground. The blow shattered a lens on Harry's glasses and snapped the bridge in two. A red welt swiftly raised on his shocked face. A tear leaked from Harry's eyes and he let out a low painful howl. Harry covered his face with both hands, rolled over rubbing his head in the grass and kicked his legs out behind him in agony.

Dudley lashed out with the cane. -SMACK- "You don't ever," -SMACK- "ever," -SMACK- "tell me what to do," -SMACK- Dudley shouted caning Harry across the back. The Dunderheads paused awkwardly at the explosion of violence from the now purple faced Dudley.

Dudley walked back over to the grill and watched the fire consume the bag. The flames licked hungrily at the air. He tore the report card in two to get Harry's attention.

Harry whipped around at the tearing sound. Tears streamed down his face. "Dudley, please don't."

A manic smile stretched Dudley's pudgy cheeks. "You should have done what I told you Harry. Now it's going to cost you." Dudley dropped the report card on the grill. The flames flickered across the paper, browning it as the corners curled then blackened in the fire.

"You. . . you bastard!" Harry shouted as he clawed his way to Dudley on hands and knees. Piers and Dennis grabbed Harry and pulled him roughly to his feet. Harry struggled with them as best as he could with his pants around his ankles.

"No, Harry, I'm not a bastard. I know who my Mum and Dad are. They're still alive." Dudley picked up the remains of the box and moved back over to the grill. "Now, you better do what I tell you. Strip." The jackals snickered at Dudley's command.

"What?" Harry's voice pitched up in surprise.

"You heard me. Let's see your birthday suit. Your birthday is coming up after all. Bet you'd thought I had forgotten about that, huh. How could I forget the day a blight like you entered the world?"

Harry looked around the park. No rescue was waiting and there were no witnesses either. It was unusually empty for a summer afternoon. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other thinking about how someone could come at any time and see him starkers.

"Now! Do it now!" Dudley barked then banged the cigar box on the grill.

Harry cast a wary eye over the park as he stepped on the heels of his shoes, kicked them off, then stepped out of his pants. He drew in a shuddering breath gathering his courage and with an impulsive jerk pulled the shirt over his head before he could think about it.

Piers snatched the shirt out of his hands and ran over to a nearby tree and threw it up into the branches. Dennis copied the action with Harry's pants. Gordon laughed like a hyena in the background.

Harry composed himself and locked eyes with Dudley, then shut down emotionally. He stood tall with his hands at his sides refusing to show any sign of weakness by crouching or covering his private parts in embarrassment. The jackals circled Harry laughing and pointing at his nakedness. Crude and demeaning comments were exchanged at Harry's expense questioning his manhood.

"Lets give ol' Harry here eleven good smacks for his eleventh birthday. Who wants the first go?" Dudley asked.

"Alright, I'll do the honours." Piers volunteered. He took a few practice swings before stepping up to Harry's backside. He swung for the fences. CRACK! Harry involuntarily hopped in place and rubbed his bottom to relieve the stinging sensation. The boys laughed at Harry's antics. Dennis and Gordon each took a turn trying to outdo each other, even arguing over who left the worst welt.

After they had each taken their swings, Harry was left bent over the picnic table with one knee on the bench. Sweat was running from his brow. Saliva dripped from his mouth onto the table. The tips of his finger nails had turned white from the pressure of gripping the table. He blew a ragged bubbly breath.

"Dang, has it been eleven hits already?" Piers joked.

"I'm not sitting this one out. Step aside, ladies, let me show you how it's done. Feel free to let us know how this one feels Harry." Dudley took a few steps back then rushed forward and swung for all he was worth. The Smelting stick broke across Harry's arse and split the angry red skin with the blow.

"Damn, Dudley," Piers said looking at the splintered cane in Dudley's hand.

"Lookit, you made him bleed with that one." Dennis pointed out with amazement.

"How can you tell? His arse was already all red" Gordon asked.

"There's blood on the stick, moron" Dennis shook his head at the stupid question.

"That was a helluva hit, Dudley," Gordon cheered, ignoring Dennis.

"I can't believe you broke the stick." Piers said shaking his head.

Dudley looked at the shortened stick in his hand, "Fuck," then chucked it at Harry.

"C'mon lets get out of here. Oh yeah, thanks for being a sport, Harry. Here's your box." Dudley pitched the box onto the white hot charcoals and watched it ignite in the flames before walking away.

Harry jerked himself off the table with a sob and made his way painfully over to the grill. Not thinking clearly, Harry reached into the fire and snatched his charred possessions from the flames. He grunted and promptly dropped it on the ground unable to force his burned hand to hold it. Harry stomped out the flames with his bare feet. Then dropped to his knees and sifted through the smouldering remains. He salvaged the singed and dirty fragment of his baby blanket.

With great care Harry stood up and looked nervously around the park for visitors. Satisfied the coast was clear, he walked over to the trees to retrieve his clothes. The tall sycamore tree towered over Harry. In the branches above him hung Harry's tattered clothing. It was difficult to judge the distance without his glasses but his kit looked to be within reach. He raised his hands high then leapt into the air. Gritting his teeth Harry crouched lower stretching the shredded skin on his arse. He leapt again, his fingertips brushed the cuff of his trousers. It gave him hope to try again. He tried a stiff legged jog to build up some speed and leapt again. His hand pawed at the trouser leg and narrowly missed grabbing it. There was a quiet dark chuckle.

Harry stopped and dropped his hands to preserve some modesty. He peered around the park but his poor vision failed to see anyone. Cautiously Harry called out, "Who's there?"

There was no reply. Facing the other direction Harry cautiously called out again, "Who's there?"

Still there was no reply. Nervous about being found or watched while being starkers, Harry gave up trying to pull his kit from the trees. Harry stiffly walked over to the rubbish bin, pulled out the liner and dumped the trash back into the container. He tore three holes in the bag. One for his head and two for his arms then pulled it on. Harry looked down to make sure the sack hung low enough to cover the important things before setting out to find his shoes.

Harry found his trainers by the picnic table and slipped them back on. He didn't bother looking for his glasses. Harry knew they were broken beyond repair. The back of Harry's legs tickled as the blood ran down them. His tattered rear end furiously protested every step. In a slow stiff legged shuffle Harry left the park.

The park stood silent witness to the transgressions of Dudley Dursley and his gang. With the children gone all was quiet once again. The shadows lengthened as a figure began to emerge. Like tar, the shadows clung to the man as he pulled away. Dressed in black the man was free of the deep shadows that had concealed him. He chuckled darkly as he walked over to the tree that withheld Harry's kit. The branches curled possessively around the trousers ensnaring the prize. Steven reached for the leg and the branch pulled away in an attempt to evade him. He laughed then raised his wand, _**"Finite Incantatem!"**_

Steven pulled down the trousers and shirt. The condition of the kit was deplorable. The Masons wouldn't have taken them. His lips curled back in a vindictive smile. "I'll break the Potter brat before he even steps a foot in Hogwarts."

**Story Recommendation: **A Marauder's Plan [8045114] by CatsAreCool. This is a Sirius rescues Harry story.

Thank you for reading the chapter. A great deal of time and effort has been committed to this story. The biggest reward you can give is a review. All comments are welcome.

**-Melverne**


End file.
